UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  SAN  DIEGO 


3  1822  02510  7459 


I     LIBRARY 

I        UNIVERSITY  OF 
I  CALIFORNIA 


millir?l^l'lMIIN?li„9^!i',''°f NIA,  SAN  DIEGO 


3  1822  02510  7459 


'GUUI'^V^,  A^^^OlOu.^ 


1^ 


Social  Sciences  &  Humanities  Library 

University  of  California,  San  Diego 
Please  Note:  This  item  is  subject  to  recall. 

Date  Due 


APR  U  6  im 

CI  39  (5/97)                                                                           UCSD  Lib. 

^ 


"^'^^tV:- 


wm-'^ 


plfiJj  ^imil 


HMiyiJBdiGjijnUrw: 


A  VOICE 


NEWSBOYS. 


PUBLISHED 

FOR  THE  BENEFIT  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 
18G0. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1860,  by 

JOHN  MORROW, 

in  the. Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  for  the 
Southern  District  of  New  York. 


'~\ 


CONTENTS. 


Introduction Page  11 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE  HAPPY  HOME. 

My  father's  employment — Our  place  of  residence — 
The  family — The  homestead — Childish  sports — Infant 
school  songs — Our  religious  training — Royal  Blue 
Coat  Hospital — A  serious  accident — The  punctual  cat 
— My  mother's  instructions — Her  early  death       .     lo 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  GI.OO.MY  HOMK. 

A  new  mother — Drinking  parents — The  old  homestead 
abandoned — We  become  emigrants — Tenants — Life  in 
New  York  city — A  short  term  of  schooling — Stealing 
fuel — An  accommodating  stevedore — A  queer  way 
of  dispensing  justice — The  razor,  the  ham,  and  the 

(7) 


strap — Misery  at  home — An  oath  with  a  sad  flaw  in 
it — An  eventful  whipping — The  match  trade — Com- 
mencement of  a  peddler's  life — Description  of  a  family 
room — Arrival,  sojourn,  and  departure  of  James  and 
Robert 24 


CHAPTER  III. 


The  runaways — Using  a  stage  for  a  bed-room — The 
capture,  and  its  consequences — Another  escape — 
Nights  on  Fulton  Ferry  boats — A  treacherous  hostess 
— The  second  capture — The  twenty  shilling  piece — 
Sunday  school — The  last  feather  breaking  the  camel's 
back — A  rebellious  speech — The  last  punishment  at 
home — Our  final  escape 48 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  newsboys'  rODGINO-HOUSE. 

Obtaining  a  lodging  under  false  pretences — A  large  bed- 
room— Description  of  other  apartments — Remorse,  con- 
fession, pardon  —  The  boys  of  the  lodging-house  — 
Jemmy  Malpus  —  William  Thomas  Lackey — "Eng- 
lish"—  The  "Wonderful  Grandfather" — Taking  a 
'^hanff"  for  fun! — The  "Professor" — Fire — Newsboys' 
concert CI 


CONTESTS.  IX 

CHAPTER  V. 

LIFE  AMONG  THEOLOGIANS. 

New  friends — The  "  Savings  Bank" — Departure  from  the 
lodging-house — Union  Theological  Seminary — School- 
ing— Willie  at  Randall's  Island — Yankee's  advice — 
A  situation  at  the  West 79 

CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  LAST  HOME  TIE  SEVERED. 

An  unexpected  summons — My  stepmother  in  distress — 
Father's  sickness — Our  visit  to  the  sick-bed — Father's 
last  words — His  death — Sister  Annie — Getting  Jane 
away  from  home — Her  new  home 8G 

CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  WEST. 

Dealing  in  furniture — An  unprofitable  job — Plans  for 
going  to  college — City  of  Elms — Room  in  Divinity 
College — Public  school  again — Motives  for  a  western 
trip — Stock  in  trade — The  journey  undertaken — Mak- 
ing a  ^^  fensation'' — Chicago — Iowa  City — A  glimpse 

at  a  western  school — A  long  stage  ride — Mr.  P , 

before  he  went  into  the  water — Mr.  P ,  after  he 

came  out — Meeting  Willie  at  Fort  Desmoines — Com- 


X  CONTENTS. 

forts  of  having  a  baby  for  a  fellow  passenger— Visit 
to  Jane — Return  to  Chicago— Kind  friends— Atlantic 
telegraph  cable  celebration        93 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  CITY  OF  ELMS. 

We  call  on  our  stepmother  at  New  York — Her  condition 
— We  take  Jonathan  with  us  to  New  Haven — Hire  a 
room — A  bold  attempt  at  housekeeping — Accidents 
will  happen  in  the  best  regulated  families — Youthful 
discipline— Its  utter  failure— The  row — A  busybody — 
Breaking  up  housekeeping  —  Jonathan  goes  to  the 
Orphan  Asylum — Willie  returns  West     .     .     .     .112 

CHAPTER  IX. 

REMINISCENCES. 

A  visit  to  the  Lodging-House  in  1860 — Mr.  Brace's 
speech — New  faces — The  rehearsal — The  supper  and 
Sunday  dinner — Pleasant  memories — Songs — Verses 
for  the  newsboy  to  remember 118 

Conclusion      ....         .    .         126 


I 


INTRODUCTION. 

Many  of  those  books  whose  office  it  is  to 
depict  humanity  in  a  few  of  its  manifold 
phases,  arc  like  some  paintings  of  natural 
scenery,  mere  fancy  sketches  of  what  may, 
and  might  be,  taking  things  as  they  are,  and 
condensing  into  one  tablet,  striking  features 
which  in  real  life  are  only  found  diluted  with 
what  is  common-place.  Others  arc  truthful 
copies  of  what  actually  exists  as  a  fact,  and 
often  sacrifice  for  the  sake  of  absolute  truth 
much  garnitui-e  wTiich,  skilfully  thrown 
around  them,  would  make  them  more  attrac- 
tive though  more  fanciful. 

This  little  work  can  certainly  claim  to  come 
under  the  latter  class ;  it  is  not  in  any  way 
an  artistic  combination  of  various  features  of 
human  life  to  make  a  readable  story ;  but 

(11) 


r- 


A   VOICE   FKOM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


simply  a  daguerreot3'pe  of  feet,  untouched  by 
art. 

It  is  the  plain  story  of  one  who  represents  a 
class  ;  of  one  who  cdoyie  has  perhaps  no  very 
special  claim  upon  the  reader's  attention,  but 
who,  as  one  speaking  for  many,  hopes  that 
these  few  pages  may  not  be  considered  un- 
worthy of  perusal. 

The  class  to  which  he  belongs  is  most  gene- 
rally recognised  under  the  term  "Newsboy," 
but  properly  embraces  all  those  of  either 
sex,  in  our  great  cities,  who  at  a  tender  age 
are  compelled  to  rely  upon  their  own  wits 
and  exertions  for  support;  though  very 
many  of  them,  like  him  whose  history  is 
detailed  in  these  pages,  may  never  have 
earned  their  subsistence  by  retailing  the 
news  of  the  day. 

In  reference  to  the  preparation  of  this 
little  work  it  should  here  be  stated,  that  it 
has    been    essentially   written    by   Johnny 

M ,  whose  varied  experience  forms  the 

thread  of  the  story. 


(  -._- 


IXTROniTTlOX. 


The  undersigned  has,  by  request,  per- 
formed the  necessary  duty  of  putting  it 
into  a  somewhat  more  correct  and  attractive 
shape  than  could  possibly  be  expected  of  a 
boy  of  only  sixteen  years,  which  is  all  that 
he  as  yet  numbers.  Yet  in  this  revision, 
care  has  been  exercised  to  leave  every  page 
as  nearly  as  possible  in  its  original  and  cha- 
racteristic shape. 

That  a  ncAVsboy  of  only  sixteen,  who  has 
enjoyed  most  limited  advantages  in  the  way 
of  a  common  education,  should  be  capable 
of  using  such  mature  and  correct  language, 
as  is  here  put  in  print,  may  seem  to  most 
readers  incredible ;  but  is  not  so  strange  to 
those  who  know  Johnny,  and  who  arc  aware 
that  his  native  powers  of  reflection,  in  con- 
nection with  his  habits  of  associating  con- 
stantly with  persons  older  than  himself,  espe- 
cially with  seminary  and  college  students, 
have  given  him  a  power  and  maturity  of  ex- 
pression much  beyond  his  years. 

Lest  a  misconstruction  should  be  put  upon 

2 


XIV  A   VOICE    FKOM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 

the  motives  which  have  led  to  the  publication 
of  this  work,  it  may  be  best  to  mention  the 
two  considerations  which  have  been  most  in- 
fluential in  brinoino;  it  about. 

The^rs^,  and  we  hope  not  an  unworthy  one, 
is  the  earnest  desire  of  directing  a  practical 
public  sympathy  to  a  large  class  of  the  needy 
and  unfortunate. 

The  second,  and  we  hope  an  excusable  one, 
is  the  desire  of  obtaining  in  this  way  funds 
which  may  be  employed  in  throwing  open  the 
■halls  of  seminary  and  college,  to  our  studious 
newsboy. 

In  view  of  all  the  attendant  circumstances, 
it  cannot  be  necessary  to  urge  the  kind  reader 
to  deal  gently  with  the  faults  which  he  may 
find  in  these  pages,  while  he  lays  to  heart 
the"  facts  here  revealed  concerning  suffering 
humanity. 

"W.  B.  D. 

Englevtood,  N.  J.,  January  1860. 


A  VOICE  FROM  THE  NEWSBOYS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  IIAPPy  HOME. 

My  father's  employment — Our  place  of  residence — 
The  family — The  homestead— Childiah  sports — Infant 
school  songs — Our  religious  training — Royal  Blue 
Coat  Hospital — A  serious  accident — The  punctual  cat 
— My  mother's  instructions — Iler  early  death. 

It  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  give  any 
connected  history  of  my  early  childhood;  but 
the  fe"W  recollections  of  those  days  -which  now 
hang  like  pictures  in  my  memory,  are  those 
of  bright  and  peaceful  scenes.  My  father, 
an  architect  by  profession,  was,  in  those  days, 
a  respectable  man,  and  qmte  prosperous  in 

(15) 


16  A   VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOtS. 


his  business ;  he  stood  well  in  society,  and 
was  exceedingly  afifectionate  and  indulgent 
to  his  family. 

The  place  of  our  residence  was  a  village 
not  far  from  Liverpool  in  England ;  our  little 
family  group  consisted  of  my  father  (Avho  was 
Scotch  by  birth),  my  mother  (English  by 
birth),  my  elder  brothers,  James  and  Robert, 
my  younger  sister,  Annie,  and  myself. 

I  can  remember  that  when  I  was  a  little 
boy  under  five  years  old,  we  used  to  live  in 
a  very  nice  house  which  belonged  to  my 
father,  in  front  of  which  was  a  pretty  little 
garden-plot,  containing  a  great  variety  of 
grasses  and  flowers,  kept  in  order  by  our 
hired  man. 

It  was  our  delight  to  sport  with  the  roses, 
which  were  creeping  up  the  side- wall  of  the 
house,  or  to  toss  in  merry  games  the  beauti- 
ful round  pebbles  of  the  gravel- walk,  which 
we  used  to  nick-name  "  Jach-stonesy 

But  I  did  not  play  all  the  time ;  my  father 
sent  me  to  an  infant  school  as  the  starting- 


point  of 
delicate 

INFANT    SCHOOL. 

are 
then 

17 

my  education,  and  many 
childish  stanzas  which  were 

the 
im- 

pressed  indelibly  upon  my  mind, 
and  liands,  as  well  as  our  cheerful 

Our  feet 
tongues, 

were  all 

engaged  in  such  a  chorus  as 

The  rain  is  falling  very  fast, 
We  can't  get  out  to-day  ; 
But  clap,  clap,  clap  away  ! 

The  infant  school's  a  happy  jjlace, 
Upon  a  rainy  day. 

this 

While  the  rain  comes  pouring  down, 

Then's  the  time  to  sing  our  son, 

T. 

Then  clap,  clap,  clap  away  ! 
The  infant  school's  a  happy  place, 

Upon  a  rainy  day. 

Or  this :— 

See  the  neat  little  clock  ; 

In  the  corner  it  stands. 

And  points  out  the  time, 

With  its  two  pretty  hands — 

The  one  shows  the  minutes. 

And  the  otlier  the  hours, 

, 

As  oft  you  may  see 

2* 

In  the  old  cliurch  towers. 

18  A    VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


The  pendulum  swings, 

Inside  the  long  case, 
And  sends  the  two  hands, 

Round  the  neat  little  face, 
As  they  move — one  so  slow, 

And  the  other  so  quick, 

With  its  tick-a-tick-a-tick ! 

Tick-a-tick!  tick!  tick! 

Our  religious  training  was  not  neglected ; 
for  we  attended  a  Sabbatli-scliool,  and  after 
returning  home  from  its  exercises,  father,  wlio 
was  a  churcli-goer,  and  who,  though  not  a 
professor  of  religion,  had  at  this  time  a  great 
respect  for  it,  used  to  question  and  instruct 
us  on  the  catechism,  and  did  much  to  impress 
the  truth  upon  our  minds. 

My  elder  brothers,  James  and  Eobert,  used 
to  be  connected  with  an  institution  called  the 
"Eojal  Blue  Coat  Hospital,"  at  Dublin,  where 
they  received  a  regular  course  of  educational 
instruction.  In  vacation  time  Eobert  used  to 
teach  me  comical  rhymes  which  he  had  picked 
up  at  the  school,  and  it  was  a  matter  of  great 


A    SERIOrS    ACCIDENT.  19 

pleasure  to  me  to  repeat  after  him  the  names 
of  his  school-fellows  as  he  gave  them  to  iiie. 
They  ran  something  like  this  :  Briton  Scott, 
Campbell  Rook,  "Woodwards,  Ramesley 
Tinkler,  Don  Devoy,  Stoker  Withers,  Wes- 
ley Freeman,  Laughley  Jones,  Right,  Cruik- 
shanks,  Brown,  Green,  Dunn,  Penuyfeather, 
&c.,  &;c.  These  names  were  mostly  nick- 
names. Robert  was  called  Britton,  because 
he  could  run  faster  than  any  other  boy  in  the 
school,  and  James  was  called  Pennyfeather, 
because  he  was  so  proud.  The  boys  in  this 
•institution  wore  yellow  vests,  blue  coats  with 
brass  buttons,  yellow  stockings,  knee-breeches, 
and  black  caps,  with  as  many  yards  of  black 
ribbon  as  each  boy  could  afford. 

An  accident  happened  to  me  while  we  were 
living  at  this  place,  whose  efifects  were  lasting 
upon  me.  One  day  while  playing  with  some 
of  my  schoolmates,  on  what  was  called  the 
"flying  swing,"  I  fell  and  injured  my  left 
leg  severely ;  I  suffered  a  good  deal  of  pain 
from  it  for  a  good  while,  and  at  last  it  resulted 


20  A    VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


in  making  me  permanently  lame,  by  causing 
one  of  my  legs  to  be  three  inclies  longer  than 
the  other.  Since  that  I  have  had  to  hobble 
along  through  life,  though  fortunately  I  can 
manage  pretty  well,  without  using  crutches. 
There  is  one  comfortable  reflection  in  this 
matter,  and  that  is,  it  might  have  turned  out 
much  worse! 

In  speaking  of  these  days,  I  might  mention 
a  curious  recollection  which  I  have  of  an  in- 
teresting domestic  cat,  in  which  I  used  to  take 
great  delight.  It  was  a  favorite  of  my  father's, 
and  a  very  useful  puss  withal.  One  of  father's 
regular  duties  was  to  rise  by  four  or  five 
o'clock  every  morning,  and  call  the  roll  of 
names,  to  see  whether  all  the  masons  and  car- 
penters were  on  hand  ready  to  go  to  work. 
Now  this  favorite  cat  used  to  call  him  every 
morning,  as  regularly  as  the  clock  struck 
five;  it  would  climb  up  to  the  bed-room 
window,  and  knock  on  the  pane  imtil  the 
window  was  opened,  and  if  its  rapping  was 
not  heard,  it  would  set  up  a  mewing,  and 


MY    mother's    IXSTRUCTIOXS.  21 


■\voiild  not  stop  iiutil  it  had  gained  an  entrance. 
When  it  had  at  hist  got  into  the  room  it  would 
show  its  delight  by  waving  its  tail,  and  brush- 
ing its  sides  against  father's  legs.  It  was  a 
beautiful  glossy  black  and  white  cat ;  it  would 
jump  high  over  3'our  hands  if  you  held  them 
out  three  or  four  feet  from  the  ground.  "When 
it  died,  I  made  a  little  grave  for  it,  and  put  a 
tombstone  at  its  head  with  this  inscription, 
which  I  had  persuaded  some  one  to  write 
upon  it: — "Here  lies  poor  puss,  who  died  in 
the  year  A.  D.  1847  ;  may  she  rest  in  peace  !" 

Many  were  the  happy  hours  spent  in  our 
then  united  family.  But  there  Avas  at  last 
one  vacancy  in  this  my  early,  and  I  may  say 
my  only  tnie  home.  It  was  a  vacancy  which 
never  could  be  filled ; — the  absence  of  my 
own  dear  mother,  who  was  called  away  from 
her  family  wliile  her  children  were  yet  in 
their  tender  years. 

One  of  the  earliest  recollections  which  I 
have  of  my  motlicr  is  of  her  trying  to  teach 
me  that  best  and  most  beautiful  of  prayers, 


22  A    VOICE    FROM    THE    NETVSBOTS. 


"Our  Father  wMcli  art  in  Heaven/'  &c.  Tlie 
time  of  Iter  death  I  remember  -well ;  father 
took  me  into  the  room  where  she  lay  in  silent 
death  upon  a  white  bed,  while  her  face  was  as 
Avhite  as  the  counterpane  itself.  "When  he  told 
me  to  kiss  her  I  was  afraid  to  do  it — for  all  the 
ghostly  stories  which  the  servants  had  told  me 
about  the  dead  rushed  upon  my  mind,  and  it 
was  not  until  father  told  me  that  death  was  but 
a  long  sleep,  and  tried  otherwise  to  soothe  my 
mind,  that  I  ventured,  crying  and  terrified,  to 
put  one  kiss  on  that  cold  cheek.  There  is 
something  so  awful  in  death  that  it  impresses 
even  a  child  so  young  as  to  be  entirely  igno- 
rant of  its  true  nature — and  the  feelings  with 
which  that  scene  inspired  me  never  left  my 
mind.  After  leaving  the  room,  I  was  dressed 
in  my  best  clothes,  and  put  in  a  carriage, 
which  wheeled  along  in  a  slow  and  solemn 
way  to  her  last  resting-place  ;  when  they  had 
covered  her  with  the  sod,  we  came  away 
mournful  and  sad,  though  I  could  hardly 
comprehend  the  reason  ivhy ;  perhaps  it  was 


MY    MOTHER  S    DKATII. 


23 


the  departed  spirit  of  my  dear  niotlicr  liovcr- 
ing  over  me,  that  impressed  me  so  power- 
fully. Every  new  year  of  my  life  has  made 
me  more  and  more  conscious  of  the  extent 
of  this  my  early  loss,  and  oft-times  have  1 
repeated  from  my  very  heart  those  affecting 
words  of  Cowper  : — 


'  My  niotlicr !  wheu  I  learned  that  thou  wast  dead, 
Say,  wast  thou  conscious  of  the  tears  I  shed  ? 
Hovered  thy  spirit  o'er  thy  sorrowing  son, 
Wretch  even  then,  life's  journey  just  begun  ? 
Perhaps  thou  gav'st  me,  though  unfelt,  a  kiss; 
Perhaps  a  tear,  if  souls  can  weep  in  bliss — 
Ah,  that  maternal  smile !  it  answers — Yes. 
I  heard  the  bell  tolled  on  thy  burial  day, 
I  saw  the  hearse  that  bore  thee  slow  away, 
And,  turning  from  my  nursery  window,  drew 
A  long,  long  sigh,  and  wept  a  last  adieu ! 
But  was  it  such  ? — It  was. — Wliere  thou  art  gone, 
Adieus  and  farewells  arc  a  sound  unknown. 
May  I  but  meet  thee  on  that  peaceful  shore, 
The  parting  word  shall  pass  my  lips  no  more ! 
******** 

I  learned  at  last  submission  to  my  lot, 

But  though  I  less  deplored  thee,  ne'er  forgot." 


CHAPTER  II. 
THE  GLOOMY  HOME. 

A  new  mother — Drinking  parents — The  old  homestead 
abandoned — We  become  emigrants — Tenants — Life  in 
New  York  city — A  short  term  of  schooling — Stealing 
fuel — An  accommodating  stevedore — A  queer  way  of 
dispensing  justice — The  razor,  the  ham,  and  the  strap 
— Misery  at  home — An  oath  with  a  sad  flaw  in  it — An 
eventful  whipping — The  match  trade — Commencement 
of  a  pedlar's  life — Description  of  a  family  room — Ar- 
rival, sojourn,  and  departure  of  James  and  Robert. 

All  this  that  I  have  said  of  my  early, 
happy  home  seems  to  me  now  like  a  dream 
in  the  past.  For  some  time  after  mother's 
death  onr  Aunt  Mary  took  her  place  in  the 
household,  and  discharged  her  duties  with  a 
tender  care, — father  loved  us  then,  and  we 
took  our  fill  of  childish  joy.  But  a  sad 
change  came  over  the  scene. 

After   remaining   a  number    of    years   a 

(24) 


A    NEW    MOTHER.  25 

widower,  father  married  again,  AVe  thought 
ourselves  happy  in  our  new  mother,  for  she 
seemed  at  first  to  wish  to  please  us,  and  to 
make  us  love  her.  The  first  thing  that  she 
did  after  becoming  acquainted  with  us  was 
to  give  each  of  us  a  shilling,  and  I  am  sure 
that  as  we  ate  the  candy  which  this  money 
procured  us,  we  laid  up  as  our  first  store, 
considerably  more  than  a  shilling's  worth  of 
attachment  to  our  new  parent.  But  she  did 
not  keep  up  this  interest  in  us  ;  she  gradually 
grew  cold  and  distant ;  we  saw  less  and  less 
of  her,  and  were  beginning  to  be  glad  of  it, 
when  a  child  of  her  own  was  born.  We 
were  at  once  treated  with  neglect — and  from 
the  time  of  the  birth  of  her  second  child,  all 
regard  for  our  welfare  disappeared  from  the 
mind  of  our  stepmother.  Scoldings  and  beat- 
ings took  the  place  of  kindly  words  ;  but  this 
was  not  the  worst.  She  and  my  father  lived 
very  unhappily  together ;  he  would  ofteu 
spend  the  night  away  from  home,  carousing 
with  a  few  companions,  spending  in  this  way 
3 


I   i 


-J 


26  A   VOICE   FEOM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


much  of  liis  hard-earned  money ;  and  she 
would  manage,  while  he  was  at  his  daily 
work,  to  drink  a  great  deal  of  whiskey. 
She  at  last  neglected  entirely  her  household 
duties,  left  the  table  in  disorder,  the  cow  un- 
milked,  the  children  uncared-for,  and  indeed 
often  entertained  carousing  friends  against 
father's  will. 

Finally,  in  a  fit  of  passion  at  her  conduct, 
he  declared  that  he  would  leave  the  home- 
stead, and  emigrate  to  America,  in  hopes  that 
such  a  change  of  circumstances  would  make 
things  better.  He  sold  out  most  of  his  effects 
for  seven  hundred  guineas ;  left  James  and 
Eobert  in  a  course  of  instruction  at  the  Eoyal 
Blue  Coat  Hospital,  at  Dublin,  paid  our  pass- 
age to  NcAV  York,  and,  in  about  six  months 
after  reaching  that  city,  he  had  not  one  red 
cent  in  his  pocket.  He  then  pawned  his 
gun  and  other  articles  of  property,  and  began 
to  work  for  seventy-five  cents  a  day,  in  the 

cabinet-shop  of  a  Mr.  T ,  in  Chatham 

street.     At  the  same  time  my  stepmother 


l: 


LIFE    IN    NEW    YORK    CITY.  27 


took  in  sewing,  and  for  a  time  we  got  along 
very  nicely.  My  sister,  Annie,  two  years 
younger  tlian  myself,  was  sent  with  me  to 
s  hool  for  two  months,  but  at  the  end  of  this 
time  our  schooling  was  suddenly  terminated 
for  the  following  reason. 

Father  happened  one  day  to  notice  a  tenant, 
who  lived  next  door,  as  he  was  carrying  into 
his  house  a  large  bundle  of  sticks.  On  in- 
quiry the  man  said  that  he  had  collected  this 
wood  on  the  docks.  Father  at  once  con- 
cluded that  I  could  make  myself  useful  in 
the  same  way;  so  my  school  days  were 
abruptly  terminated,  and  my  time  was  spent 
in  collecting  firewood  from  wood-piles  on  the 
steamer-docks.  Sometimes  we  would  find 
stray  pieces  lying  neglected  on  a  wharf, 
where  there  had  stood  a  few  days  before  a 
huge  pile,  which  had  since  been  thrown 
aboard  some  steamer.  Oi*  if  these  chances 
were  wanting,  a  cautious  prowl  around  some 
large  pile  would  generally  aftbrd  an  oppor- 
tunity to  make  way  with  a  good-sized  stick ; 


28  A   VOICE    FU03I    THK    NEWSBOYS. 


t      I 


for  it  mattered  not  to  my  parents  liow  clis- 
lionestly  I  miglit  come  by  my  daily  load.  In 
trvitli,  if  the  truth  must  be  told,  father  some- 
times gave  me  three  or  four  cents  to  slip  into 
the  hands  of  some  stevedore  as  he  was  shovel- 
ling coal  into  the  bunker  of  a  vessel,  telling 
him  it  would  get  him  a  drink  of  brandy.  In 
return,  the  stevedore  would  pitch  a  shovel- 
ful of  coal  into  my  basket,  and  by  proper 
management  we  could  keep  him  friendly  for 
some  time,  so  as  to  secure  a  daily  basket  of 
fuel. 

From  this  time  I  had  to  suppl}'  the  house 
with  wood  and  coal,  and  meanwhile  my  sister 
Annie,  who  had  been  withdrawn  from  school, 
commenced  learning  to  sew  at  home.  From 
this  time,  my  life  of  trouble  and  rough  expe- 
rience commenced.  Father  would  come  home 
at  six  o'clock,  send  for  brandy  and  drink  it ; 
oui'  stepmother  would  help  him  to  make  way 
with  it,  and  when  they  were  about  half- 
drunk,  they  would  beat  us  children,  and 
kick  us  about  the  room,  or  sometimes,  leav- 


THi:    RAZOR,    THE    HAM    AND    TUB    STltAP.  !c9 


ing  US  to  our  fate,  they  would  fight  together, 
first  with  angry  words,  and  then  with  blows, 
which  mostly  however  came  from  her.  I 
have  several  times  seen  her  seize  him  by  the 
hair,  and  drag  him  to  the  ground,  Avhilc  he 
refused  to  strike  her  back,  saying  that  he 
would  not  hit  a  woman. 

I  will  mention  here  a  little  incident  which 
occurred  about  this  time,  which  will  iHus- 
trate,  in  a  small  way,  the  kind  of  justice 
which  a  great  many  poor  children  receive  at 
the  hands  of  their  parents,  when  those  parents, 
who  ouglit  to  be  the  best  earthly  friends  of 
their  offspring,  are  degraded  by  the  intoxi- 
cating cup. 

One  day  father  went  out  with  my  step 
mother  to  pay  some  one  a  visit.  While  he 
was  gone,  some  one  of  the  family  made  use 
of  his  razor  in  cutting  oft' a  slice  of  ham.  It 
may  have  been  one  of  us  children,  or  it  may 
have  been  the  servant  girl  (for  we  still  re- 
tained a  servant  girl,  whose  passage  over 
from  England  father  had  paid  when  we  camo 
3» 


30  A   VOICE    FROM    THE    NETTSBOTS. 


over,  and  who  was  now  paying  liim  back  in 
service).  For  my  part,  at  any  rate,  I  knew 
nothing  of  the  author  of  the  mischief.  •  When 
father  went  to  shave  the  next  morning,  he 
found  his  razor  in  this  very  dirty  state,  and 
began  to  scold  pretty  severely;  as  no  one 
confessed  the  deed,  he  declared  that  he  would 
be  sure  to  find  the  right  one  who  had  the 
audacity  to  meddle  with  his  sacred  hair-cut- 
ting instrument,  for  he  was  always  very  par- 
ticular about  it,  and  took  great  pride  in 
sharpening  it  to  that  point  of  perfection 
when  it  could  split  a  hair.  So  he  com- 
menced to  catechise  all  of  us  in  this  way: — 
"Johnny,  did  you  use  my  raeor?"  "No, 
sir!"  "Do  you  know  who  did  it?"  "No, 
sir!"  "Well,  then  you  may  go  into  the 
bed-room  and  take  off  your  clothes,  and  I 
will  soon  find  the  one  who  did  it !"  Sister 
Annie,  who  was  the  next  in  years,  was  next 
called  to  the  stand.  Question.  "  Annie,  who 
used  my  razor?"  Answer.  "I  don't  know, 
sir."     "Did  Johnny?"      "I  didn't  see  him 


U 


AN    EYENTFIL    WHimNO.  31 


do  it."  "  "Well,  who  did  you  see  witli  tlic 
razor?"  "No  one,  sir!"  "Well,  that  will 
do ;  you  may  go  and  strip  off  your  clothes 
too !"  "  William,  who  did  you  say  used  my 
razor?"  "Nobody,  sir!''  "  What  kind  of 
a  fellow  is  nobody?  I  should  like  to  meet 
him ;  he  is  a  very  mischievous  chap !  If  I 
could  find  him,  I  would  teach  him  a  lesson 
or  two !  That  will  do  for  you,  sir !  Go  and 
peel  off!"  "  Jancy,  did  you  use  my  razor?" 
"  No,  sir,  I  didn't  use  it  at  all,  nor  did  I  see 
anybody  use  it!"  "Well,  I  guess,  as  the 
Yankees  say,  I  can  hit  upon  the  right  one  1 
You  may  go  and  take  off'  your  clothes!" 
Then,  when  we  were  all  huddled  together 
in  the  bed-room,  like  chickens  in  a  hen- 
coop, and  half-stripped  of  our  clothes,  father 
entered  with  a  strap  in  his  hand,  and  com- 
menced the  programme  by  flogging  me,  then 
Annie,  then  Willie,  and  then  Janey.  When 
he  had  finished  his  task,  he  made  the  very 
philosophical  remark  that  now  he  was  sure 


L_- 


32 


A    VOICE    IROM    TUB    NEWSBOYS. 


he  liad  liit  upon  the  right  one !  which,  to  say 
the  least,  was  very  doubtful ! 

The  above  scene  was  but  one  of  a  hundred 
such,  enacted  in  those  few  years  of  misery 
when  we  lived  with  father  in  New  York ; 
he  was  what  he  used  to  call  ti2)sy,  when  he 
performed  the  agreeable  task  of  hitting  the 
right  one ;  and  now  that  the  time  of  being 
under  the  control  of  such  parents  is  past,  we 
never  think  of  the  razor,  the  ham,  and  the 
strap,  without  both  a  smile  at  the  ridiculous- 
ness of  the  scene,  and  at  the  same  time  a 
tear  of  sorrow  at  the  thought  that  those  who 
were  naturally  affectionate  and  kind  should 
be  so  completely  changed.  There  is  a  cause 
for  everything  that  comes  to  pass,  and  the 
cause  of  this  change  was  strong  drink.  If 
the  case  of  my  father  can  warn  any  one,  who 
reads  this  book,  from  the  tempting  cup  of 
intoxicating  drink,  then  I  will  not  regret 
that  it  has  been  here  recorded ;  and  if  this 
little  volume  should  cause  any  to  stand, 
and  examine  whether  they  are  drifting  on 


THE  drunkard's  son. 


33 


in  sucli  a  ruinous  course,  and  if  it  should 
be  tlie  means  of  holding  them  back  in  their 
mad  career  downwards,  it  will  abundantly 
have  accomplished  its  mission. 

After  working  six  months  for  Mr.  T , 

father  left  that  place,  and  got  temporary 
occupation  as  house-carpenter,  by  which  he 
earned  two  dollars  a  day.  I  now  thought 
that  he  would  let  me  go  to  school,  as  he  was 
earning  enough  to  support  us  comfortably, 
and  at  the  same  time  pay  our  school  ex- 
penses ;  but  alas !  how  hard  a  lot  it  is  to  be 
a  drunkard's  son ! 

No !  he  would  not  let  us  go  to  school,  for 
he  knew  that  my  time  was  more  valuable  at 
stealing  coal  and  gathering  wood,  and  by 
getting  higher  wages  he  only  had  more 
money  to  spend  in  drink ! 

This  job  lasted  only  two  weeks,  when  he 
found  work  in  Yorkville,  while  we  moved 
up  to  the  corner  of  Fortieth  street  and  Tenth 
avenue.  lie  left  home  on  I^Ionday,  and  did 
not  return  till  Saturday  evening,  when  out 


I    I 
I    I 


34  A    VOICE    FROM    THE    NE-WSBOTS. 

of  his  salary  of  fifteen  dollars  a  •vreek,  lie 
would  bring  lionie  but  four  or  five  dollars ; 
the  rest  he  had  spent  for  board,  and,  sad  to 
say, /or  drink.  Yet  we  always  awaited  with 
a  sort  of  pleasure  his  coming  on  Saturday 
evening,  as  we  generally  had  something  good 
to  eat  on  those  occasions,  which  was  far  from 
being  the  case  during  his  absence ;  for  we 
rarely  had  more  than  tv»^o  dollars  and  a  half 
to  support  the  family,  of  six  children  and 
their  mother,  from  Monday  to  Saturday. 

During  our  experience  of  this  kind  of  life, 
which  lasted  twelve  months,  we  thousrht 
ourselves  comparatively  happ}'-,  because  our 
father  was  not  at  home  to  knock  us  around ; 
but  our  conceived  happiness  quickly  van- 
ished, when  he  left  Yorkville  and  engaged 
in  the  service  of  a  builder  in  New  York 

city,  a  Mr.  Y ,  by  name.     And  here  let 

me  not  speak  of  the  nails  which  I  was  com- 
pelled to  steal,  and  afterwards  dispose  of.  at 
the  junk-store,  at  two  cents  a  pound,  to  pay 
for  father's  brandy. 


AN    OATII    WITH    A    FLAW    IN    IT.  35 


He  soon  became  an  almost  hopeless  drunk- 
ard ;  got  out  of  work,  out  of  money,  and, 
consequently,  out  of  bread.  Starve,  was 
tbe  word !  Yet  my  father  was  a  kind  man 
and  parent  wlien  lie  was  sober,  and  in  those 
moments  of  sobriety  he  could  not  endure  to 
see  us  starving;  but  what  could  he,  do? 
Ashamed  that  he  had  allowed  d|;ink  to  get 
the  mastery  over  him, -he  at  last  made  a  sort 
of  a  resolve  to  break  off  this  ruinous  habit. 
Yes !  he  several  times  took  his  Bible  oath, 
for  instance,  that  for  six  months  he  would 
not  taste  either  brandy,  beer,  rum,  ale,  or 
whiskey,  &c. ;  but  he  was  always  sure  to 
leave  out  something ;  in  one  case  he  left  out 
gin;  on  another  occasion  he  included  gin 
in  his  empty  oath,  but  left  out  whiskey  1 
Meanwhile  I  was  compelled  to  pursue  my 
occupation  of  stealing  wood  and  coal  from 
the  docks. 

The  time  shortly  came  when  there  was  no 
alternative  left  to  my  father  but  to  pawn  his 
feather-bed,  and  one  gloomy  day  he  carried 


36  A    VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


this  to  the  pawnbroker's,  and  got  tlie  whole 
sum  of  six  dollars,  for  what  had  originally 
cost  fifty  dollars,  and  was  still  in  good  order. 
"With  a  sad  heart,  and  a  shame- stricken  con- 
science, he  pocketed  the  money,  and  came 
home.  Of  course,  he  concluded  that  he 
could  do  nothing  less  than  to  try  to  drown 
his  guilty^thoughts  by  copious  draughts  of 
gin! 

Thus  my  father  plunges  ever  deeper  and 
deeper  into  the  depths  of  drunkenness !  O, 
wretched  man !  and  still  more  wretched 
family !  It  was  that  arch-enemy  of  man- 
kind, STROXG  DRINK,  that  robbed  reason 
from  one  of  the  best  and  kindest  of  fathers ; 
that  changed  him,  who  was  once  alive  with 
generous  feelings  and  kindness  of  heart, 
who  was  made  in  the  image  of  God,  into  a 
heartless  and  miserable  drunkard ! 

One  day  when  I  was  out  gathering  sticks, 
I  caught  sight  of  a  nice  piece  of  board,  lying 
on  the  ground  by  itself  Quick  as  thought, 
I  put  it  on  my  shoulder,  and  was  marching 


IDE    MATCH    BUSINESS.  37 

home  with  it,  when  its  owner  came  chasing 
after  me.  I  tossed  the  board  away,  and  used 
my  legs  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  but  he 
could  run  much  faster,  and  soon  caught  me, 
and  caned  my  legs  till  they  bled.  On  reach- 
ing home,  I  told  father  of  the  occurrence, 
and  declared  that  I  would  not  steal  wood 
any  more ;  he  grew  very  angry,  and  scolded 
me  severely,  till  I  felt  miserable  enough. 
To  cool  his  anger,  I  mentioned  that  I  had 
seen  a  great  many  boys  selling  matches,  at 
a  profit  of  from  fifty  to  seventy-five  cents  a 
day,  and  there  appeared  to  be  no  good  rea- 
son why  I  should  not  make  money  in  the 
same  way ;  that  a  profit  of  fifty  cents  a  day 
would  enable  me  to  purchase  fuel  and  lights, 
if  not  more.  Father  gave  his  consent  to  the 
experiment. 

Starting  with  a  capital  of  twenty-five  cents, 
which  fiither  advanced  me,  I  bought  two 
packs  of  matches,  at  twelve  cents  a  pack, 
and  had  one  cent  left  to  buy  cord  with. 
There  are  thirty-six  boxes  in  each  pack, 
4 


o8  A   VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


and  by  taking  some  out  of  each  box  (ag 
tbey  were  very  full),  I  made  twentj-five 
new  bunclies.  Selling  a  box  or  a  bunch  for 
one  cent,  I  thus  got  ninetj-seven  cents  for 
my  whole  stock,  besides  five  cents  which 
were  given  to  me.  Of  these  earnings  I 
spent  two  cents  for  cakes,  and  carried  the 
remaining  dollar  home  to  my  father. 

Greatly  rejoiced  to  find  that  I  could  make 
so  much,  he  at  once  began  to  praise  me  up 
— called  me  his  hig  son  ;  said  that  I  was  the 
best  and  most  dutiful  son  that  he  had ;  did 
not  ask  me  to  go  out  for  brandy,  but  sent 
sister  Annie.  "When  she  had  got  it,  he 
made  some  punch,  and  treated  me  with  a 
glassful. 

Now,  I  was  a  real  peddler,  licensed  and 
congratulated  by  my  father ;  and  my  usual 
weariness  on  retiring  that  night  was  over- 
balanced by  the  remembrance  of  my  day's 
success,  and  its  acceptability  to  my  parents. 

Let  me  break  the  thread  of  my  story  for 
a  moment,  to  give  a  short  description  of  the 


THE  FAMILT    ROOM.  39 

room  in  wliic'h  we  were  now  living,  in  Forty- 
fourth  street.  The  whole  of  our  family,  seven 
in  number,  were  occupying  the  same  room, 
for  this  was  all  that  father  at  this  time  was 
able  to  rent.  Its  size  was  about  thirty  feet 
by  twenty ;  in  one  corner  there  stood  a 
good-sized  and  plain  bedstead,  made  of  hem- 
lock by  my  father,  and  it  was  mounted  by 
a  bed  stuffed  with  chaft".  This  had  to  accom- 
modate five  of  us  children — Annie,  William, 
Mary  Jane,  Margaret  Ann,  and  myself.  To 
stow  away  so  many  in  one  bed,  it  was  neces- 
sary to  arrange  it  so  as  that  three  slept  at 
the  head  and  two  at  the  foot,  packed  toge- 
ther very  much  like  sardines  in  a  box.  And 
though  we  sometimes  had  trouble  in  our 
crowded  night-colony,  on  account  of  those 
at  one  end  getting  more  than  their  share  of 
the  bed-clothes,  at  the  expense  of  those  at 
the  other,  yet,  on  the  whole,  we  got  along 
peaceably  and  comfortably.  In  the  opposite 
corner,  across  the  room,  was  a  five-dollar 
bedstead,  containing   a  good   soft   bed,   in 


40  A    VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOTS. 


"wliicTi  my  father  and  step-mother  slept,  to- 
gether with  my  newly-born  brother,  Jona- 
than. 

In  one  of  the  remaining  corners,  there 
stood  a  carpenter's  bench,  at  which  my 
father  had  sometimes  made  little  wooden 
stools,  for  the  use  of  ladies  while  they 
were  at  church,  or  while  sewing  at  home ; 
and  which  I  used  to  sell  for  from  twelve  to 
fifteen  cents  apiece  (being  several  cents  more 
than  they  cost),  and  on  some  days,  when 
father  had  been  very  industrious,  and  had 
made  twenty-four  of  them,  we  had  done 
pretty  well  in  our  earnings ;  but  now  he 
had  neglected  this  source  of  support.  The 
rest  of  the  room  was  taken  up  by  a  plain 
table,  three  chairs,  two  benches,  and  a  few 
other  very  humble  articles  of  farniture. 

Such  was  the  situation  of  the  family  which 
I  was  now  compelled  to  support.  Day  after 
day,  it  was  my  task  to  set  out  immediately 
after  breakfast,  with  my  basket  on  my  arm, 
for  the  store  where  I  bought  my  stock  of 


U 


rEDDLlXG    MATCIir.S. 


41 


matches.  This  was  in  Twenty -niuth  street, 
between  Seventh  and  Eighth  Avenues,  and 
was  kept  by  two  German  brothers  named  Ja- 
cob and  John.  They  sold  matches  at  whole- 
sale to  peddlers,  and  I  was  guided  thither  by 
some  little  match  girls.  When  I  had  boaght 
my  matches  from  Jake  (as  Jacob  was  nick- 
named) I  took  them  to  a  bench  set  apart  for 
that  purpose  by  the  proprietors,  and  when  I 
had  removed  some  matches  from  every  lot 
of  which  to  make  new  bundles,  as  before  de- 
scribed, then  the  job  of  peddling  v^as  under- 
taken. The  way  this  was  conducted  was  by 
going  through  one  street  at  a  time,  calling  at 
all  the  houses  on  both  sides,  and  beginning 
each  day  where  I  had  left  off.  It  would  star- 
tle some  people  to  know  the  number  of 
fiimilies  in  this  great  city  avIio  gain  their 
whole  support  from  the  sales  of  matches.  I 
knew  two  families  who  supported  themselves 
by  making  paper  boxes  to  hold  matches  for 
eight  cents  a  gross.  Not  loss  than  fifty  boys 
and  girls  lived  by  peddling  matches  bought 
4* 


42  A    VOICE    FROJI    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


from  Jake  and  Jolin.  There  were  besides 
about  twenty  men  and  thirty  women,  mostly 
Germans  and  Irish,  who  obtained  a  livelihood 
in  the  same  manner.  Jarke  and  John's  store 
is  only  one  of  the  six  dozen  branches  of  the 
Thirtieth  street  factory,  and  each  branch  has 
probably  as  many  customers  as  they  have. 

Hard  as  this  life  was,  it  was  infinitely 
better  than  my  former  occupation,  which  my 
conscience  told  me,  even  then,  was  ivrong, 
and  which  I  cannot  now  look  back  upon 
but  with  sorrow  and  shame.  Nothing  would 
have  induced  me  to  stain  these  pages  by  the 
recital  of  those  days,  in  which  we  were  sup- 
ported in  so  dishonest  a  way,  but  the  desire 
to  be  faithful,  and  tell  the  whole  truth,  espe- 
cially as  I  fear  there  are  too  many  in  every 
great  city  whose  history  could  be  written  in 
the  same  Avords,  to  whose  condition  every 
benevolent  man  and  woman  should  awake ! 

On  reaching  home  each  evening,  tired  and 
hungry,  it  would  be  a  stroke  of  good  luck 
if  I  did  not  get  a  scolding,  if  not  a  beating, 


!  L 


ARRIVAL    OP    JAMES    AND    ROBERT.  43 


for  not  having  made  larger  sales  in  my  traf- 
fic ;  for  father  was  becoming  more  and  more 
hardened,  using  at  least  half  of  my  daily 
earnings  for  strong  drink,  and  refusing  to 
give  me  any  breakfast  or  supper,  that  I 
might  obtain  food  for  myself  from  those  of 
my  customers  who  were  charitabl}^  disposed. 

My  stepmother  was  just  as  bad,  if  not 
worse;  for  she  would  drink  heavily,  on  the 
pretence  of  keeping  the  liquor  out  of  father's 
way ;  yet,  whenever  he  made  a  good  resolve 
not  to  drink  any  more,  and  left  it  off  for  a 
day  or  two,  she  would  say :  "  Send  for  a 
little  drop !  it  will  not  do  you  an}'-  harm ;" 
and  in  this  way  he  was  drawn  back  into  his 
bad  habits  again,  I  think  my  father  might 
have  reformed,  if  it  had  not  been  for  her 
influence. 

While  we  were  in  this  wretched  state,  we 
suddenly  got  word  that  James  and  Robert, 
my  elder  brothers,  who  had  been  put  to 
school  in  Dublin,  on  our  leaving  England, 
had    arrived    at    New    York.      James,    the 


L: 


44  A    VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


eldest,  was  seventeen,  and  Kobert  was  fifteen 
years  of  age.  They  had  acquired  a  decent 
education,  and  were  energetic  in  whatever 
they  undertook.  Father  soon  found  them, 
and  tried  his  best  to  induce  them  to  come 
and  live  with  him,  hoping  they  would  then 
help  to  support  him ;  but  they  declined  his 
request,  much  to  his  chagriri.  Eobert  ob- 
tained work  in  a  brass  foundry,  on  wages  of 
two  dollars  and  fifty  cents,  and  James  in  a 
grocery  store,  at  four  dollars  a  week. 

Father  came  home  angry  enough  at  their 
refusal,  and  made  nie  work  all  the  harder 
for  awhile  ;  but  about  a  month  after,  Robert 
got  out  of  work,  and  then  took  up  his  abode 
in  our  house.  He  was  one  of  those  persons 
who  take  life  easily,  and  who  are  willing  to 
try  anything  that  comes  to  hand.  Accord- 
ingly he  entered  at  once  with  me  into  the 
business  of  peddling.  We  added  the  item 
of  picture-books  to  my  usual  stock,  and 
drove  quite  a  brisk  business,  he  taking  one 
side  of  a  street  and  I  the  other,   making 


ROBERT  LEARNS  TO  BE  A  MACHINIST.        45 


from  one  to  two  dollars  a  day.  "We  con- 
tinued our  labor,  -wliich  was  the  only  means 
of  support  for  father  and  the  family,  for  one 
year  ;  and  the  latter  part  of  this  time  "William 
and  Jane  began  to  try  their  hands  at  the 
same  business.  Finally,  James  also  came 
to  live  with  us,  and  as  father  used  most  of 
the  money  which  he  paid  for  his  board,  for 
drink,  this  was  an  additional  burden  on  us. 

After  awhile,  Robert  thought  that  he  was 
getting  too  big  to  be  a  peddler  any  longer, 
and  contrived  to  apprentice^himself  to  a 
machinist ;  in  this  position  he  worked  faith- 
fully from  morning  till  niglit.  Sometimes  he 
had  to  leave  home  in  the  morninsr  with  but 
a  crust  of  bread,  or  if  he  wished  anything 
more  substantial,  he  had  to  get  up  very  early 
and  cook  it  himself.  Then,  on  cold  snowy 
days  he  had  to  go  out  with  but  scanty 
clothing  on  his  back,  and  leaky  and  rickety 
shoes.  Oh  !  how  I  used  to  pity  him,  though 
I  was  as  badly  off  myself;  but  I  used  to  think 
that  I  would  rather  bear  double  hardship  than 
to  see  him  sufler  so  without  a  murmur ! 


^ 


46  A   VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


A  few  months  afterwards,  one  Sunday 
morning,  James  was  sitting  bj  the  fire,  read- 
ing the  novel  "  Claude  Duval,  the  Dashing 
Highwayman."  Father,  who  had  got  a  sud- 
den streak  of  morality,  jumped  out  of  bed  and 
snatched  the  book  from  his  hands,  admin- 
istering at  the  same  time  a  reproof  for  his 
indul2:ino;  in  such  readino;  on  the  Sabbath. 
James,  very  much  irritated,  sprang  to  his  feet, 
called  father  a  drunken  sot,  said  that  if  he 
were  not  his  son,  he  would  strike  him,  and 
declared  that  he  would  leave  the  house  the 
next  morning.  Sharp  words  were  given  in 
retmm,  which  only  strengthened  this  resolu- 
tion, and  the  next  day  James  paid  up  his 
board  in  full,  and  left,  as  he  had  threatened. 

Eobert  also  soon  became  alienated  in  the 
following  way.  He  appropriated  seven  shil- 
lings of  his  hard-earned  money  for  a  pair  of 
shoes,  of  which  he  was  greatly  in  need. 
For  this  father  scolded  him  severely,  and 
telling  him  to  leave  the  house,  assisted  him 
to  do  so,  by  thrusting  him  out  of  the  door. 
He  then  bes-an  boardina;  in  a  house  where 


ROBEllT    BECOMr.9    A    SAILOR.  47 


the  cliarge  was  two  dollars  and  fifty  cents  a 
week,  but  found  himself  unable  to  keep  up 
this  arrangement,  for  father  immediately 
went  to  the  shop  Avhere  he  was  apprenticed, 
demanded  and  obtained  Robert's  Avages. 

Finding  that,  as  he  Avas  not  yet  of  age,  he 
could  not  prevent  this,  Robert  at  last  ran 
away,  and,  entirely  at  a  loss  to  know  what 
to  do  next,  he  was  Avandering  along  the 
docks,  Avhen  he  saAV  a  schooner  just  casting 
loose  from  the  Avharf.  lie  at  once  jumped 
aboard,  and  asked  if  they  did  not  Avant  a 
hand.  The  captain  told  him  to  fall  to  AA'ork, 
and  he  Avas  soon  busy  in  his  ueAV  employ- 
ment, I  saAA'  him  for  a  few  hours  one  year 
after  this  event ;  he  had  kept  up  his  sea-life, 
and  told  me  that  on  the  next  voyage,  he  Avas 
to  be  the  second  mate;  since  that  time  I 
have  neither  seen  nor  hcanl  one  Avord  from 
my  banished  brother,  Rol)ert. 

James  AA'orked  at  the  jiainting  business  for 
awhile,  and  then  engaged  himself  in  a  bakery. 
I  saAV  him  once,  a  good  Avhile  after  he  left  our 
house,  but  have  not  seen  him  since  that  time. 


CHAPTER   III. 
NO  HOME. 

The  runaways — Using  a  stage  for  a  bed-room— The 
capture,  and  its  consequences  — Another  escape- 
Nights  on  Fulton  Ferry  boats— A  treacherous  liostcss 
—The  second  capture -The  twenty  shilling  piece- 
Sunday  school— The  last  feather  breaking  the  camel's 
back— A  rebellious  speech— The  last  punishment  at 
home — Our  final  escape. 

My  own  position  was  now  fast  becoming 
anendurable.  I  was  liable  at  any  time  to  be 
knocked  about  tlie  room  and  beaten  by  my 
parents,  and  we  cliildren  bad  to  work  very 
hard  to  earn  money  while  they  stayed  in 
idleness  at  home,  and  drank  away  a  large 
portion  of  our  earnings.  Father  often  spoke 
of  James  and  Robert  as  ungrateful  sons; 
but  for  my  part  I  becaiiie  very  much  in- 
clined to  imitate  their  example,  in  deserting 

(48) 


A    STAGE    AS    A    IlF.D-nODM.  49 

a  home  •which  had  become  only  an  abode  of 
misery.  I  carried  out  my  inclination  at  last, 
by  staying  away  from  home  one  night,  and 
•sleeping  in  a  stage,  and  so  for  two  or  three 
nights — while  I  supported  myself  by  ped- 
dling in  the  day. 

On  the  following  Sunday,  I  met  brother 
"William,  and  we  went  down  to  the  river  to 
bathe.  On  our  return  we  met  father,  who 
at  once  made  for  us.  I  did  not  run,  and  he 
caught  hold  of  me,  but  William  had  made 
good  use  of  his  legs,  and  father  could  not 
secure  him  without  letting  me  go.  In*  this 
dilemma,  he  promised  me  that  if  I  would 
persuade  Willie  to  return,  he  would  not 
punish  us  fbr  our  conduct ;  so  I  called 
Willie  back,  and  we  all  went  home.  But 
the  promise  was  speedily  broken,  and  father, 
stripping  our  backs  of  clothing,  beat  us  with 
a  piece  of  clothes-line  till  the  blood  came 
trickling  down.  We  promised  him  that  if 
he  would  leave  off  this  punishment,  we 
would  not  run  away  again,  but  that  if  he 


50 


A   VOICE    FROM   THE    NEWSBOYS. 


did  not,  we  would  seize  tlie  first  chance  to 
escape  from  liim.  But  this  declaration  only 
irritated  him  the  more,  and  increased  the 
weight  of  the  blows.  We  kept  our  word ; 
we  ran  away  at  the  first  good  chance  that  we 
found.  The  occasion  of  our  doing  so  was 
as  follows :  A  few  days  after  the  flogging 
(which  we  did  not  soon  forget),  in  the  course 
of  our  trading,  we  left  some  benches  with 
a  lady,  on  trust;  father  was  displeased  that 
we  should  have  done  so,  and  sternly  com- 
manded us  not  to^come  home  again  without 
the  money. 

The  next  day  the  lady  failed  to  have  the 
ready  money,  so  we  took  father  at  his  word, 
and  did  not  return  home,  but  recovered  the 
benches,  and  sold  them  for  a  higher  price 
than  we  had  previously  asked;  with  this 
money  Ave  bought  a  lot  of  matches,  as  our 
stock  in  trade,  and  commenced  business  on 
our  own  hook. 

That  night  we  got  along  by  paying  for  a 
trip  on  one  of  the  Fulton  ferry  boats,  and 


_J 


A    TKEAClIEKOrs    IIOSTKSH.  51 

tlicu  taking  our  night's  rest  on  the  seats  in 
the  gentlemen's  cabin.  The  following  day  wc 
made  two  dollars,  and  at  night  slept,  as  before, 
on  the  ferry  boats.  Then  Willie  and  I  got 
accidentally  separated  for  a  day,  but  linally 
met  at  the  store  of  a  kind  German,  who  kept  a 
grocery  store  in  Thirty-eighth  street.  Willie 
had  succeeded  in  getting  two  dollars  and  a 
quarter  for  about  one  dollar's  worth  of 
children's  picture  books,  which  we  thought 
a  stroke  of  vci"^  good  luck. 

There  was  a  woman  named  Mrs.  M<:>oiv, 
witli  wIkjih  we  were  .somewhat  acquainted, 
living  in  Thirty-eighth  .street,  and  it  occurred 
to  iLs  that  she  might  perhaps  be  willing  to 
board  us;  so  wc  went  that  evening  to  her 
house.  She  was  very  much  surprised  to  see 
us,  but  seemed  to  give  us  a  cordial  welcome. 
We  made  arrangements  to  board  and  lodge 
with  her,  and  ])aid  her,  in  advance,  .seven 
dollars,  which  was  nearly  all  that  we  had  at 
that  time.  For  two  or  three  days  things 
went  on  smoothly,  but  she  at  last  proved 


52  A   VOICE   FROM   THE    NEWSBOYS. 


treacTierous,  and  sent  word  secretly  to  our 
father,  of  our  wliereabouts ;  and  tlie  next 
Sunday  evening,  while  we  were  at  tea,  it 
was  our  turn  to  be  surprised;  for  very  sud- 
denly our  appetite  was  spoiled  by  the  unplea- 
sant fact  that  father  walked  quickly  into  the 
room ;  and,  while  the  bread  was  still  in  our 
mouths,  he  seized  us  by  the  coat  collar  as  his 
lawful  prisoners  !  We  were  speedily  shown 
the  way  homewards,  which  we  knew  too  well 
already ;  and  another  floggirf^  was  adminis- 
tered, in  hope  of  keeping  us  from  playing 
truant  again. 

For  a  time  we  were  not  allowed  to  stir 
out  of  the  house,  but  finally  we  resumed  our 
work  of  trading,  with  the  same  success  as 
before.  On  one  occasion,  two  or  three  weeks 
after  this,  we  had  such  poor  luck  in  the  city, 
that  we  paid  four  cents  for  ferriage,  and 
were  taken  to  Brooklyn.  We  did  not  suc- 
ceed much  better  here,  but  when  we  were 
returning  in  one  of  the  evening  boats,  a 
gentleman  on  board  gave  me  a  twenty  shil- 


THE    TWENTY    SHILLING    PIECE. 


53 


ling  gold-piece.  I  tliought  at  tlic  time  that 
it  was  a  ten  cent  piece,  and  merely  thanked 
him  for  his  kindness,  and  went  on  my  way. 
As  we  felt  very  tired  on  reaching  the  New 
York  side,  we  got  into  one  of  the  Eighth 
Avenue  cars,  and  when  the  conductor  came 
around  I  handed  him  my  supposed  ten  cent 
piece.  To  my  surprise  he  asked  if  I  had 
nothing  else,  and  I  answered  that  I  had,  and 
paid  my  fare  in  other  money.  When  he 
returned  the  gold  piece,  I  looked  at  it  very 
closely,  supposing  that  it  was  brass,  and  that 
the  person  who  put  it  into  my  hand  was 
only  fooling  me.  But  wlien  we  left  the  car 
we  had  a  chance  to  examine  it  by  the  light 
from  the  window  of  a  liquor  store,  when  I 
made  out,  as  I  supposed,  that  it  was  a  two 
and  a  quarter  gold  piece ;  for  my  education 
was  so  deficient,  that  I  supposed  the  one-half 
must  stand  for  two  shillings.  As  soon  as  we 
came  to  this  conclusion,  we  went  into  the 
store,  and  I  asked  the  bar  keeper  to  give  me 
change  for  a  two  dollar  and  a  quarter  gold 


6* 


54  A    VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 

piece.  He  saw  my  mistake,  and  tried  to 
make  a  speculation  by  giving  me  the  change 
which  I  asked  for ;  but  he  fell  short  of  the 
amount  twenty -five  cents;  and  when  he  had 
failed  in  his  attempts  to  borrow  this  amount, 
he  concluded,  seeing  that  he  could  not  impose 
upon  me,  to  undeceive  me,  and  informed  me 
of  the  true  value  of  the  gold  piece.  We  took 
it  home  and  gave  it  to  father ;  he  of  course 
was  delighted  to  receive  it,  and  the  next 
morning,  which  was  Sunday,  he  sent  to  the 
distillery  for  a  gallon  of  brandy. 

"While  he  and  my  stepmother  were  in  bed 
drunk ;  I  got  breakfast  with  five  cents,  which 
I  had  left  from  my  earnings ;  but  father  woke 
lip  after  awhile  and  inquired  where  I  had 
obtained  the  money  for  the  breakfast ;  on  my 
telling  him,  he  said  that  it  was  a  nice  thing 
for  me  to  be  spending  his  money  in  that  way. 
My  assertion  that  it  was  my  OAvn  earnings, 
had  no  Aveight  with  him,  and  he  soon  went 
on  from  scolding  to  beating  and  kicking  us 
and  every  thing  else  around  the  room,  till  he 


SUNDAY    SCHOOL. 


55 


got  tliorouglily  tired  and  went  to  bed  again 
drunk. 

Tlien  stepmotlier  took  lier  turn  at  scold- 
ing ;  and  to  get  out  of  her  way  I  asked  per- 
mission to  attend  Sunday  school. 

I  had  attended  Sunday  school  a  number  of 
times,  having  been  induced  to  do  so  in  the 
following  way  :  A  gentleman  once  met  me 
while  I  was  peddling,  and  asked  me  to  attend 
his  school ;  he  gave  me  at  the  same  time  a 
three  cent  piece.  I  got  my  father's  permission 
to  do  so,  and  went  as  invited  ;  heard  the  story 
of  Lazarus,  and  the  rich  man,  and  was  so 
much  interested,  that  I  went  again  the  next 
Sunday,  and  heard  about  Joseph  and  his 
brethren.  For  some  time  after  this,  whenever 
I  had  made  good  sales  during  the  week, 
father  would  let  me  go  to  this  Sunday  school. 
I  thought  I  was  entitled  to  the  privilege  this 
week,  and  though  the  school  was  twenty 
blocks  off,  yet  I  would  have  gladly  walked 
that  distance  for  the  purpose.  But  my  step- 
mother only  scolded  me,  when  I  asked  per- 


56  A    VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


mission,  and  said  "You  are  a  pretty  looking 
felloAV  to  go  to  Sunday  school,  witli  such 
clothes  !"  So  tliis  privilege  was  refused,  and 
instead  of  going  to  study  the  examples  of 
good  men  and  women,  we  were  obliged  to 
remain  in  our  dismal  home  and  share  the 
misery  of  seeing  both  of  our  parents  in  a  state 
of  drunkenness  all  day,  and  to  feel  their 
abuse,  when  for  a  few  moments  they  came  to 
their  senses  sufficiently  to  notice  us  in  any 
way. 

Towards  evening  of  that  day,  while  my 
sister  Annie  was  out  in  the  area  washinsc 
the  ashes  away  from  a  pailful  of  cinders,  to 
save  the  little  coal  that  might  thus  be  ob- 
tained, some  rude  street  boys  came,  and, 
leaning  over  the  railing,  began  to  call  her 
hard  names.  My  stepmother  hearing  it, 
asked  me  impatiently  what  they  were  doing 
so  for.  I  wsCs  myself  in  a  very  impatient 
mood,  as  I  had  been  thinking  over  our  hard 
life,  of  little  pleasure  or  comfort  and  much 
abuse ;  so  I  at  once  seized  the  occasion,  which 


A    REBELLIOUS    SPEECH.  57 


her  question  presented,  to  give  lier  a  piece 
of  my  mind. 

Accordingly  I  poured  out  involuntarily  in 
words  the  thoughts  that  had  been  crowding 
on  my  mind,  and  ansAvered  her  by  saying : 
"I  am  sure  I  don't  know;  you  ought  to 
know  better  than  /,  for  you  arc  in  the  house 
all  the  year  round,  and  do  nothing  but'  sit  at 
the  fire  helping  father  to  drink  all  that  we 
earn !  You  don't  care  ivhere  or  how  we  get 
it,  so  long  as  we  bring  you  this  money,  for 
which  we  have  to  slave  from  morning  till 
night !  You  need  not  hope  that  it  will  be 
always  so ;  for  I  am  going  to  run  away,  and 
shall  go  where  you  will  not  be  able  to  find 
me !  Once  every  thi'ee  weeks  you  carry  to 
an  office  down  toAvn  some  shirts,  made  for 
you  mostly  by  sister  Annie ;  you  get  the 
money  for  them,  and  call  it  your  earnings, 
and  while  you  continue  to  scold  us,  you 
never  cease  to  talk  of  your  earnings,  even 
after  you  have  used  up  in  drink  all  that  yoa 
can  possibly  call  youi's,  and  then,  for  the 


53  A   VOICE    FROM    TUE    NETVSBOYS. 


next  three  weeks,  liave  to  depend  upon  our 
little  daily  sales  for  your  support  and  your 
drink  /" 

Just  at  this  juncture  father  burst  into  the 
room,  very  much  excited,  saying,  "I  have 
heard  every  word  of  it,  sir !"  Then,  snatch- 
ing up  a  stick,  he  dealt  a  heavy  blow  on  the 
table,  with  the  words:  "I  will  teach  you 
how  to  use  your  tongue  towards  her,  sir!" 
I  did  not  speak,  for  I  knew  my  time  had 
come,  and  it  had ;  for  in  an  instant  he  began 
to  strike  me  with  the  stick.  I  ran  towards 
the  door,  declaring  that  I  would  rather  die 
in  the  street  than  to  be  scolded  and  abused 
by  him.  Then  he  seized  me  by  the  neck, 
drew  me  into  a  corner,  and  beat  and  kicked 
me  till  he  was  tired,  and  I  was  pretty  well 
used-up,  when  he  raised  me  to  my  feet,  and 
ordered  me  to  bed.  I  answered  that  he 
could  kill  me  as  well  with  my  clothes  on  as 
in  bed,  and  begged  him  to  do  it  at  once, 
rather  than  to  leave  me  in  such  pain.     His 


I 


OUR   FINAL    ESCAPE.  59* 

only  reply  "was  to  push  inc  into  bed,  luiH- 
dead  as  I  "was. 

When  I  a"Wokc  the  next  morning  my  face 
was  very  s"wollen  and  sore,  from  my  hard 
treatment  on  the uprevious  evening;  but  I 
arose  and  got  breakfast  ready,  after  which 
father  and  stepmother  came  up.  Father 
began  to  eat,  but  she  declared  that  she 
would  not  use  one  cent  of  my  earnings  after 
this.  Father,  looking  very  sternly  at  me, 
ordered  me  to  take  my  wares  out  at  once, 
and  sell  them,  so  as  to  bring  in  as  much 
money  as  possible.  Glad  enough  to  escape, 
I  silently  obeyed,  accompanied  by  William 
and  Jane.  That  night  Jane  slept  in  the 
station-house,  while  Willie  and  I  made  a 
bed-room  of  a  grocery-man's  coal-box. 

On  the  next  day,  we  made  ten  shillings  by 
our  sales,  which  I  sent  home  by  Jane,  who 
was,  however,  careful  to  avoid  telling  where 
we  were;  and  the  following  night,  by  the 
kindness  of  the  grocery-man,  of  Avhom  I 
have  before  spoken,  we  were  accommodated 


60  A    VOICE    FROM    THE    KEWSBOTS. 


in  his  store,  and  on  the  third  evening  we 
were  about  to  take  our  night's  rest  in  the 
gentleman's  cabin  of  one  of  the  ferry-boats, 
when  one  of  the  deck-hands  came  in;  on 
hearing  our  story  he  took^us  below,  into  the 
engine-room — kindly  gave  us  a  cup  of  tea, 
and  some  bread  and  butter,  and  allowed  us 
a  good  sleep  in  one  corner  of  the  room. 
With  the  daylight  our  usual  business  of 
trading  returned;  this  time  we  occupied 
ourselves  in  selling  books  in  Brooklyn. 
Selecting  some  street,  William  would  take 
one  side,  and  I  the  other ;  after  ringing  the 
door -bell,  we  would  ask  to  see  the  gentle- 
man or  lady  of  the  house;  and  on  their 
appearance,  would  display  our  assortment 
of  books  in  as  attractive  a  way  as  possible. 
"Very  often  the  answer  was  returned  that  no 
books  were  icanted.  but  to  help  us  along, 
they  would  buy  fifty  cents  worth. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  NEWSBOYS'  LODGING-HOUSE. 

Obtaining  a  lodging  under  false  pretences — A  large  bed- 
room— Description  of  other  apartments — Remorse,  con- 
fe?sion,  pardon  — The  boys  of  the  lodging-house  — 
Jemmy  Malpus  —  William  Thomas  Lackey— "Eng- 
lish"—The  "Wonderful  Grandfather"- Taking  a 
"/zrtn^"  for  fun!— The  " rrofessor"—Fire— Newsboys' 
concert. 

When  night  came  on,  and  that  ever  pre- 
sent question  returned  to  trouble  us,  "  Where 
shall  we  sleep  ?"  I  resolved  to  carry  out  a 
plan  of  which  I  had  been  thinking  for  some 
time,  and  accordingly  found  my  way,  with 
"Willie,  to  the  "Newsboys'  Lodging-House." 
Opening  the  door,  I  walked  up  to  the  desk, 
and  inquired  of  the  gentleman  who  seemed 
to  preside,  "Is  this-  the  place  for  boys  to 
sleep  who  haven't  got  any  father  or  mo- 
G  (61) 


62  A   VOICE    FKOK   THE    NEWSBOYS. 


ther?"  Mr.  Tracy  (for  that  was  tlie  name 
of  the  gentleman  whom  I  addressed),  an- 
swered "Yes,"  Then  I  told  him  that  we 
had  neither  father  nor  mother,  and  asked 
whether  we  might  sleep  there.  I  think  that 
if  he  had  looked  hard  at  my  face  he  conld 
have  seen  that  I  was  telling  a  lie,  for  I  felt 
my  guilty  cheeks  burn  with  shame!  But 
he  only  inquired  where  we  had  been  sleep- 
ing lately,  and  then  gave  us  the  permission 
which  we  wanted,  on  condition  of  our  pay- 
ing six  cents  apiece  for  the  privilege,  accord- 
ing to  the  rules  of  the  establishment. 

We  felt  very  rich,  as  we  had  in  our  pos- 
session six  dollars  which  we  had  earned, 
and  imagined  ourselves  on  the  highway  to 
wealth.  Mr,  Tracy  took  the  twelve  cents, 
and  entered  our  names  as  William  and  John 
Moore,  which  I  had  purposely  given  him 
instead  of  our  right  names,  for  better  con- 
cealment of  our  movements. 

After  sitting  by  the  fire  for  a  few  minutes, 
answering  all  the  questions  that  were  put  to 


A   i.AiKii;   hkd-room.  G3 

US,  we  passed  quietly  into  tlic  bed-room. 
Our  minds  were  so  much  occupied  with 
wonderings  and  speculations  about  our  new 
home,  that  we  did  not  examine  things  about 
us  very  closel}^  "We  could  not  but  see,  how- 
ever, that  the  accommodations  assigned  to 
each  of  us  for  the  night  consisted  of  a  nice 
little  bed  with  warm  comforters  and  clean 
sheets ;  and  glad  enough  were  we  to  end  our 
day's  work  in  such  a  rest  as  was  now  pro- 
mised us. 

At  half-past  six,  the  next  morning  we 
were  roused  by  the  voice  of  the  assistant, 
crying  "Up,  boys,  up!"  "We  started  up. 
rather  bewildered  at  finding  ourselves  in  so 
unusual  a  place.  Looking  around  more  lei- 
surely than  we  were  able  to  do  the  pre\dous 
evening,  we  saw  that  we  were  in  a  large  bed- 
room about  sixty  by  forty,  holding  at  that 
time  about  forty  boys;  it  was  in  the  upper 
story  of  the  Sun  Building,  and  looked  neat 
and  commodious,  while  good  ventilation  was 
afforded  by  an  ample  supply  of  windows. 


64 


A   VOICE    FROM   THE   NEWSBOYS. 


After  dressing,  "Willie  and  I  went  into 
tlie  room  where  we  had  applied  for  admit- 
tance the  evening  before;  it  was  not  quite 
as  large  as  the  sleeping  room,  yet  it  was 
capable  of  accommodating  one  hundred  boys 
comfortably  as  a  school  and  sitting  room, 
with  considerable  space  for  play-room  at  that. 

The  first  thing  that  we  did  after  presenting 
ourselves,  was  to  return  Mr.  Tracy's  kind 
good-morning,  and  answer  his  inquiries 
about  our  night's  rest.  We  were  shown  by 
him  to  the  bathing-room,  and  soon  cleaned 
ourselves  more  thoroughly  than  we  had  for 
some  time;  then  took  up  our  baskets,  and 
sallied  forth  to  our  day's  trading.  •  Thus  we 
were  at  last  fairly  settled  in  that  noble 
institution  of  New  York  benevolence  and 
forethought, — The  Newsboys'  Lodging  Souse  ! 

But  though  all  seemed  to  be  right  and 
comfortable  on  the  outside,  all  was  not  right 
within.  There  was  a  constant  sense  of  guilt 
and  shame  resting  on  our  minds ;  we  had 
got  a  comfortable  home,  and  the  kindest  of 


PRATERS.  65 

friends,  but  to  acquire  these  we  had  made 
use  of  a  very  wrong  story,  and  the  more 
comfortable  our  quarters  and  the  more  cor- 
dial our  new  friends,  the  deeper  did  this 
arroAV  of  guilt  sink  into  our  hearts.  Two 
or  three  nights  after  our  admission,  we  made 
up  our  minds  that  we  ought  to  rejaiember 
the  duty  of  prayer  before  retiring;  so  we 
both  kneeled  down  and  repeated  the  only 
prayer  that  either  of  us  knew.  "When  we 
came  to  the  petition,  '-Forgive  us  our  tres- 
passes," &c.,  although  scarcely  knowing  what 
that  meant,  the  guilty  remembrance  of  that 
lie  flashed  over  my  mind,  and  it  continued 
to  trouble  me  when  1  tried  to  sleep ;  it  seemed 
hypocrisy  to  utter  such  prayers  for  forgive- 
ness while  we  were  living  in  comfort  ac- 
quired by  a  falsehood  unacknowledged  and 
unforgivcn.  I  could  find  no  relief,  except  in 
the  determination  to  see  Mr.  Tracy  as  early  as 
possible  the  next  morning,  tell  him  the  whole 
truth,  and  ask  his  forgiveness.  I  supposed 
that  we  should  of  course  be  told  to  leave  the 
G* 


66  A    VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


lodging-liouse,  but  succeeded  in  summoning 
up  courage  to  carry  out  mj  resolution.  I 
went  to  Mr.  Tracy's  desk ;  lie  was  writing, 
but  in  a  moment  or  two  laid  down  bis  pen, 
and  looked  at  me  inquiringly ;  I  tben  said 
to  bim  at  once  before  my  resolution  sbould 
fade  oui:  "Mr.  Tracy,  wben  I  came  bere,  I 
told  you  a  lie,  and  now  I  am  sorry  for  it ;  I 
said  tbat  I  bad  not  any  fatber  or  motber, 
but  /  have,  and  tbey  drink  so  mucb  brandy, 
and  beat  us  so  often,  tbat  we  could  not  live 
witb  tbem!"  I  went  on  to  tell  bim  tbe 
wbole  story.  Mr.  Tracy,  instead  of  getting 
angry  and  driving  us  from  tbe  building  witb 
a  command  never  to  return,  as  we  expected 
be  would,  said  tbat  be  was  sorry  tbat  we 
bad  deceived  bim,  but  was  very  glad  we 
had  confessed  it;  from  tbat  day  be  bas 
seemed  a  better  friend  to  us  tban  ever  before. 
It  was  not  long  before  we  were  acquainted 
witb  all  tbe  boys  regularly  connected  witb 
tbe  establisbment.  There  were  constant 
changes  going  on.  Homes  in  tbe  great  and 
far  "West  would  be  provided  by  Mr.  Tracy 


BOYS    OF    THE    I.ODGIXO-IIOUSE.  67 


and  other  friends  of  the  newsboys,  for  the 
older  residents  of  the  Lodging-IIouse,  and 
as  they  left,  ncAV  ones  would  come  in  to  take 
their  places.  In  the  evenings  we  would 
have  lessons  to  learn  and  to  recite  to  various 
persons.  There  were  three  boys  in  particu- 
lar at  the  lodging  house  with  whom  I  became 
intimately  acquainted.  They  were  William 
Thomas  Lackey,  Jemmy  Malpy,  and  another 
whom  they  used  to  call  "English,''''  because 
he  Avas  an  English  boy,  and  would  show  it 
by  saying  "hair"  for  "air,"  "ouse"  for 
house,"  and  "hate"  for  "ate."  I  think  his 
real  name  was  Daniel  O'Sullivan.  ATe  five 
boys  used  to  sell  mostly  the  same  kind  of 
things,  such  as  pencils,  pen-knives,  books, 
and  stationery  generally.  It  happened  also 
that  we  were  all  Protestants,  while  the  others 
were  Catholics;  so  avc  kept  together,  and 
were  more  attracted  towards  each  other  than 
towards  any  others  in  the  establishment, 
though  we  were  on  terms  of  good  friendship 
with  all  ill  the  lodging-house. 


68  A    A'OICE    FROM    TUB    NEWSBOYS. 

Before  we  left  tlie  place,  Jemmy  Malpy 
was  sent  home  to  liis  parents  in  England, 
who  liad  for  a  long  time  been  ignorant  of 
the  whereabouts  of  their  son.  William 
Lackey  left  the  lodging-house  soon  after 
"Willie  and  I  did,  and  went  out  West  to  live 
with  a  farmer. 

"English"  continued  to  go  around  selling 
books  and  papers,  and  making  speeches ;  I 
think  he  still  continues  at  the  same  business. 
I  met  him  awhile  ago,  wHle  he  was  impart- 
ing variety  to  his  trade  in  books,  by  singing 
from  door  to  door,  a  song  about  his  wonder- 
ful grandfather.  It  was  a  curious  medley 
of  verse  and  of  prose,  as  follows : — 

"  My  grandfather  was  a  most  wonderful  man, 
He  could  do,  or  invent,  a  most  wondrous  plan, 
He  travelled  around  through  vast  regions  unknown, 
And  always  found  out  the  philosopher's  stone. 
And  just  like  a  duck  or  a  goose  he  could  swim —  ; 

"  Talking  of  siui7nini7ig,  once  he  swam 
from  Albany  to  New  York,  and  beat  the 
steamboat  by  two  hours  and  a  half — 


TUE  WONDERFUL  GRAXDFATUEE.         69 


"  So  what  a  pity  that  life  is  a  span  ! 
For  my  grandfatlicr  was  a  most  wonderful  man .' 

"If  he  would  only  plant  tenpenny  nails 
in  the  ground  at  night,  in  the  morning  they'd 
spring  up  to  be  crowbars.  Once  he  made  a 
steam  wheel-barrow,  and  put  my  grandmo- 
ther in  it,  and  sent  it  away  up  forty  miles 
into  the  air,  and  she  has  never  been  heard 
of  since ;  some  say  they  have  seen  her  cut- 
ting around  St.  Paul's  churchyard  ; 

"  So  what  a  pity  tliat  life  is  a  span ! 
For  my  grandfather  was  a  most  wonderful  man  ! 

"But  one  cold  morning  he  froze  into  a 
rotten  turnip ! — 

"  So  what  a  pity  that  life  is  a  span  ! 
For  my  grandfatlicr  was  a  most  wonderful  man !" 

This  "English,"  or  "Dannie,"  as  wc  often 
called  him,  was  a  very  queer  geniiLs,  lie 
once  took  it  into  his  head  to  have  two  news- 
boys hang  him.  They  agreed  to  do  so,  and 
went  with  him  into  an  empty  room  in  the 


70  A    VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


Sun  building ;  taking  his  red  comforter  from 
his  neck  tliey  made  a  slip-noose  at  one  end, 
and  threw  it  around  his  neck,  while  they 
passed  the  other  end  over  one  of  the  beams 
overhead.  One  of  the  boys  acted  as  hang- 
man, and  the  other  as  sheriff.  The  prisoner 
said  that  he  wanted  to  die  just  like  an  Eng- 
lish robber  ;  so  the  sheriff'  said  prayers  over 
him,  the  hangman  adjusted  the  noose,  and 
they  hauled  him  up,  and  kept  him  suspended 
by  the  neck  till  his  face  turned  almost  black. 
Then  they  let  him  down,  threw  a  pitcher  of 
water  in  his  face,  and  left  him  to  his  fate. 
Fortunately  he  revived,  and  returned  to  the 
lodging-house  that  night ;  in  all  probability 
he  was  thoroughly  cured  of  his  desire  to  ex- 
perience the  hanging  process.  The  account 
of  the  matter  was  given  me  partly  by  him- 
self and  partly  by  the  boys  who  acted  as 
sheriff  and  hans-man,  and  it  is  but  one  of  the 
singular  experiments  tried  by  this  singular 
genius. 

But  Danny  O'Sullivan  had  another  name 


....J 


TUE    rnOFESSOR.  71 

besides  "English."  The  newsboys  called 
him  the  "Professor,''^  which  name  he  still 
retains,  and  to  which  he  is  very  partial. 
The  "Professor"  tells  the  following,  as  one 
of  his  adventures.  As  he  was  once  going 
by  a  theatre,  he  stopped  a  minute  or  two  to 
sing  about  his  "  wonderful  grandfather," 
when  he  was  espied  by  the  door-keeper,  or 
some  functionary  of  the  theatre,  who  told 
him  to  leave.  The  "  Professor"  answered, 
"Can't  you  leave  a  fellow  alone?"  at  the 
same  time  throwing  at  him  a  piece  of  a  card, 
which  he  says  went  into  his  mouth,  and 
down  his  throat.  The  insulted  man  started 
for  his  assailant,  who  took  to  his  heels,  but 
the  man  gained  rapidly  in  the  race,  and  was 
just  putting  out  his  hand  to  seize  the  fugi- 
tive, Avhen  the  Professor,  evidently  with  the 
intention  of  teaching  him  that  there  is  many 
a  slip  'twixt  the  cup  and  the  lip,  lay  right 
down  on  the  pavement ;  ^Jie  man  fell  clean 
over  him,  and  wliilc  he  was  trying  to  get 
into  an  ui)riglit  position  again,  the  young 


72  A   VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


and  spry  Professor  was  making  the  best  of 
liis  way  to  the  lodging-house,  where  he 
related  the  incident  with  considerable  mer- 
riment. 

There  are  many  other  stories  told  of  this 
boy,  Avhich  alone  would  fill  a  larger  book 
than  this.  Many  a  time  he  has  borrowed 
money  from  me,  to  pay  for  his  meals  or 
lodging.  Once  I  lent  him,  at  his  request, 
enough  to  get  him  his  supper.  He  went  to 
Savery's  saloon,  got  his  supper,  and  then 
recited  his  famous  song,  for  which  he  re- 
ceived seventy -five  cents,  out  of  which  he 
returned  me  the  loan,  and  had  enough  left 
to  start  him  in  business  again.  Poor  Danny ! 
the  world  has  dealt  hardly  with  him !  I 
know  not  where  he  is  now ;  he  may  be 
wandering  over  the  TVest,  but  I  hope  he 
has  a  good  home  somewhere,  for  he  deserves 
one.  If  he  had  enjoyed  a  father's  and  mo- 
ther's care,  witli^^the  instruction  that  other 
boys  get,  he  would  undoubtedly  have  be- 
come a  great  and  smart  man.     He  may  yet 


FIRE.  73 

become  sucli  a  man,  for  fortune,  though  very 
fickle,  yet  always  favors  the  brave.  Let  us 
hope  the  best  from  her  for  the  "Professor !" 
We  were  not  without  our  times  of  excite- 
ment at  the  LodginQ-.House.  One  ni^ht  at 
about  two  o'clock,  when  tired  and  weary 
newsboys  were  in  their  beds,  some  busily 
employed  in  snoring,  while  others  were 
sleeping  quietly  and  dreaming,  we  were  all 
suddenly  aroused  from  these  quiet  slumbers. 
Hark !  what  sound  is  that  which  grates  so 
harshly  on  our  ears  ?  Listen !  Ah !  it  is  the 
cry  of  Fire !  Fire  !  FIRE !  The  Sun  Building 
is  on  fire !  rouse  up  !  wake  up,  bo3\s  !  if  3^ou 
don't  want  to  be  burnt  up  !  Now  there  is  a 
great  confusion  ;  there  is  incessant  hurrying 
to  and  fro.  "  Where  are  my  pants?  Where's 
my  coat  ?  What's  the  matter  ?  Oh  !  we'll  all 
be  burnt  up!"  and  similar  exclamations  are 
uttered  together.  One  boy  shouts  that  the 
"bank"  ought  to  be  carried  down;  probably 
he  had  a  large  amount  of  "Savings"  in  it. 
Others  tumbled  down  stairs  only  half  awako 


[^ 


74  A   VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


and  lialf  dressed.  I  sliout  to  liave  some  one 
help  me  get  my  trunk  down  stairs.  Jemmy 
Malpus  generously  comes  forward.  But  at 
this  moment  we  learn  that  our  own  part  of 
the  building  is  yet  safe,  and  I  concluded  to 
wait  till  the  Lodging-House  is  actually  on 
fire,  which  as  it  turned  out  did  not  happen 
at  all.  The  next  house  to  the  Sun  Building 
was  the  one  that  was  burning,  and  it  Avas 
consumed  to  the  ground ;  in  the  morning 
there  was  nothing  in  its  place  but  a  smoking 
heap  of  ruins ;  now  a  beautiful  marble  house 
marks  the  spot  where  raged  the  fire  in  its 
fury  that  dark  night.  "Who  shall  say  that 
the  fire  that  night  did  not  accomplish  some 
secret  and  wise  mission  ?  None  can  tell ! 
certainly  it  is  not  easy  to  see  why  it  is  or- 
dained that  men  shall  be  subject  to  such 
terrible  moments  of  suspense,  why  they 
should  be  thrown  into  such  whirlpools  of 
sudden  excitement,  unless  it  is  to  train  them 
to  patience  and  vigilance. 

The  newsboys  were  glad  enough  when 


FIRE.  75 

they  found  that  they  were  not  to  lose  their 
comfortable  beds,  that  they  were  not  to  be 
unceremoniously  cast  out  into  the  streets 
again  in  the  darkness  of  night.  I  am  afraid 
we  got  "  spoiled"  by  having  had  such  com- 
fortable quarters  in  the  lodging-house,  for 
the  prospect  of  having  to  seek  our  lodgings 
in  the  streets,  which  came  over  us  so  sud- 
denly that  night,  seemed  darker  than  it  ever 
had  before.  Ah!  it  is  a  hard  thing,  my 
dear  reader,  for  a  little  boy  to  have  to  wan- 
der  about  the  streets  of  a  large  city  like 
New  York,  without  having  a  permanent 
place  to  sleep  in  when  dark  night  comes  on! 
Yes.  it  is  very  hard  to  be  a  homeless  wan- 
derer on  the  face  of  this  beautiful  earth, 
when  there  are  so  many  comfortable  houses 
to  suggest  enjoyments  which  are  denied  to 
3-0U !  And  then,  wlicn  sickness  comes  on, 
it  often  brings  with  it  the  wicked  temptation 
to  seek  for  death  rather  than  to  live  in  such 
distress  any  longer.  Often  have  I  walked 
up  and  down  Broadway  the  best  part  of  the 


76  A   VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


night,  for  fear  tliat  the  police  would  take 
me,  if  I  were  to  lie  down  in  tlie  streets,  and 
then,  when  I  could  get  a  good  place  for  a 
sleep,  I  would  take  it  in  real  earnest,  so  that 
it  might  last  me  for  some  time. 

I  remember  on  one  such  occasion,  when  I 
was  very  tired  and  sleepy,  going  into  an 
oyster  saloon,  and  hiring  the  use  of  a  bed 
for  the  night,  for  twenty-five  cents.  It  was 
Saturday  night,  and,  strange  to  sa}^,  I  slept 
from  this  time  till  Monday  morning !  It 
happened  in  this  way :  the  man  who  kept 
the  saloon  put  up  the  shutters  and  locked 
the  doors,  and  with  his  family  went  to  bed. 
During  the  whole  of  Sunday,  as  the  shutters 
were  over  the  windows,  it  was  very  dark, 
and  we  did  not  know  when  the  night  went 
and  the  day  came — so  we  all  slept  straight 
throug;h,  and  when  the  shutters  were  at  last 
opened,  and  we  aroused  from  our  long- 
snooze,  it  was  almost  impossible  to  believe 
that  it  was  really  Monday  morning.  I  had 
certainly  the  consolation  of  knowing  that  I 


newsboys'  concert.  77 


had  taken  a  pretty  good  twenty-five  cents' 
wortli  of  sleep ! 

Anotlier  time  of  some  excitement  for  the 
LodfjiniT-IIouse,  was  the  occasion  of  the 
famous  "  Newsboys'  Concert."  There  were 
great  times  in  getting  ready  for  it.  Picture 
to  yourself  about  thirty  boys,  all  ragged,  ■ 
standing  in  a  very  crooked  row,  trying  to 
learn  to  sing ;  and  Mr.  Van  Meter  in  the 
midst  of  them,  as  patient  as  they  say  Job 
was,  trying  to  show  them  the  difference  be- 
tween the  different  notes,  and  teaching  them 
the  words  of  the  songs,  and  you  will  have 
some  idea  of  the  way  that  the  newsboys 
appeared,  preparing  to  give  a  concert  for 
the  amusement  of  thousands  who  will  crowd 
to  see  them  on  the  eventful  nit^ht  at  the 
Broadway  Tabernacle. 

There  were  said  to  be  five  thousand  per- 
sons in  the  Broadway  Tabernacle  that  night. 
Four  of  us  boys  stood  up  together  on  the 
stage  and  sung  :  "  We  stand  here  together, 
resolved  the  right  to  maintain:  with  hearts 


78  A    VOICE    FROJI    THE    NE-\VSBOTS. 


true  and  constant,  whatever  may  come,  we 
as  firm  as  tlie  rocks  will  remain." 

Then  about  a  dozen  boys  stood  up  in  a 
class,  and  sung  (while  Mr.  Yan  Meter  ac- 
companied them)  the  funny  A,  B,  C  song, 
Mr.  Yan  Meter  would  sing  "  A,  B,  C,  D,  E,  F, 
G,"  and  then  the  boys  sung  "H,  I,  J,  K,  L,  M, 
N,  O,  P,"  &;c.  Then  a  boy  stepped  forward, 
and  slily  pinned  a  pocket-handkerchief  to 
Mr.  Yan  Meter's  coat-tail,  and  then  another 
stuck  a  piece  of  paper  on  his  back.  Then 
Mr.  Yan  Meter  would  seem  to  find  it  out 
suddenly,  and  Avould  turn  around  and  pull 
the  delinquent's  hair,  singing  all  the  while, 
"  Don't  you  laugh,  you  rogue,  at  me !  mind 
you  say  your  A,  B,  C ;  else  I  will  whip  you 
and  turn  you  out  of  school,  for  you  are  a 
naughty  boy,  and  do  not  mind  my  rule !" 

There  were  many  other  songs  of  similar 
character  sung  there  that  night. 


L^ 


CHAPTER  V. 

LIFE  AMONG  THEOLOGIANS. 

New  friends — The  "  Savings  Banli" — Departure  from  the 
lodging-house — Union  Theological  Seminary — School- 
ing— Willie  at  Randall's  Island — Yankee's  advice — • 
A  situation  at  the  West. 

•One  wintry  day,  William  was  trying  to 
make  some  sales  in  Brooklyn ;  it  was  very 
cold  and  snowy,  and  unfortunately,  when 
night  approached,  he  had  sold  but  little. 
At  the  last  moment  he  came  to  a  house 
where  he  was  kindly  taken  in,  and  his  story 
patiently  listened  to.  The  good  people  of 
the  house  cheered  him  with  a  supper,  and 
when  he  was  sufficiently  warmed  and  ready 
to  go,  they  gave  him  enough  to  make  up 
for  the  unsuccessful  labor  of  the  day.    From 

that  time  Mr.  and  Mrs.  L d  have  been 

(79) 


80  A   VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


kind  friends.  Tliey  used  to  come  to  the 
lodging-house  very  often,  and  drop  a  dollar 
or  so  into  our  department  in  the  bank. 

This  bank  is  a  curious  establishment ;  it 
stands  between  Mr.  Tracy's  little  ofi&ce  and 
the  wash-room.  It  is  in  the  form  of  a  square 
table,  about  five  feet  and  a  half  one  way  and 
three  and  a  half  the  other.  There  are  one 
hundred  square  inches  marked  off  on  the 
top  of  the  table,  and  within  each  square  inch  ' 
there  is  inscribed  a  number,  and  there  is 
also  a  narrow  opening  just  large  enough  to 
admit  a  fifty  cent  piece.  On  the  underside 
of  this  table  is  a  drawer  filled  with  a  series 
of  boxes  or  compartments ;  one  compart- 
ment corresponding  to  each  of  the  registered 
square  inches  above. 

Each  boy  uses  one  of  these  squares,  which 
he  remembers  by  the  number,  and  if  he 
chooses  to  try  the  benefits  of  saving  his 
earnings  he  can  drop  his  money,  daily, 
through  the  opening  into  the  box  beneath. 
Mr.  Tracy  keeps  the  key  of  this  drawer^ 


DErAUTCRE    FROM    THE    LODGING-nOCSE.  81 


counts  the  money  in  each  box,  and  gives  it 
up  to  its  owner,  unless  he  prefers  to  let  it 
remain  awhile  lonsrer  in  the  bank. 

It  is  surprising  to  see  what  effects  follow 
the  monthly  opening  of  the  bank.  On  the 
next  day,  you  will  see  one  boy  with  a  pair 
of  new  pants,  another  with  a  new  clean  shirt, 
another  in  a  comfortable  pair  of  shoes,  &c. 
The  first  month  "Willie  and  I  accumulated 
eleven  dollars  in  the  bank,  and  the  next 
month,  twelve  dollars. 

The  day  at  last  came  when  I  was  enabled 
to  relinquish  my  place  at  the  Newboys' 
Lodging-Housc,  to  some  more  needy  adven- 
turer.    A  good  friend  of  ours.  Miss  Anna 

H ,  came  to  see  us,  as  she  often  did, 

and  after  her  visit,  wrote  a  piece  in  the 
next  number  of  the  "  Independent,"  entitled 
"The  boy  who  confessed  his  sin."  I  read 
it,  and  found  it  to  be  a  short  sketch  of  my 
own  history.  Shortly  afterwards,  I  showed 
it  to  the  superintendent  of  the  Sunday  School 
which  I  attended,  a  Mr.  C g,  now  a  mis- 


r" 


82  A   VOICE   FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 

sionar J  under  tlie  American  Board  in  Syria. 
After  perusing  it,  lie  seemed  to  become  inte- 
rested in  Willie  and  myself,  and  said  that 
lie  "would  try  to  make  arrangements  for  me 
to  stay  in  his  room.  He  did  so,  and  by  his 
invitation  I  moved  my  trunk  from  the 
Lodging-House  to  the  Union  Theological 
Seminary,  No.  9  University  Place,  where  I 
found  Mr.  C,  and  his  chum,  in  a  very  com- 
fortable room.  Mr.  C.  gave  me  a  little  bed, 
and  made  his  room  quite  a  home  to  me. 
My  daily  routine  of  duty  used  to  be  as  fol- 
lows :  From  nine  A.  M.  to  three  o'clock  p.  M. 
I  attended  school.  From  three  to  four, 
traded  with  the  students  in  the  seminary, 
and  with  others ;  between  four  and  half-past 
six,  while  seminary  exercises  were  going  on, 
I  studied  my  lessons  for  the  next  day.  Then 
came  supper ;  after  that,  a  little  more  trading, 
a  little  reading,  and  then  bed. 

What  a  contrast  with  my  former  life  at 
home !  It  would  seem  as  though  I  should 
have  been  the  most  happy  under  my  father's 


.. 


WILLIE  AT  Randall's  island.  83 

care;  but  the  fact  is,  tliat  in  my  present 
situation  I  realized  mucli  more  enjoyment, 
as  well  as  improvement. 

There  is  something  about  the  character  of 
the  theological  students  that  I  like  very 
much ;  they  are  so  kind  and  unselfish,  and 
seem  to  understand  one  so  well,  that  it  is 
pleasant  to  deal  with  them.  I  have  expe- 
rienced many  kindnesses  at  their  hands,  and 
trust  I  shall  ever  be  grateful. 

Willie  in  the  meanwhile  had  remained  in 
the  lodging-house ;  but  he  also  soon  changed 
his  quarters  strangely.  About  a  month  after 
my  leaving  for  the  seminary,  he  came  one 
day  to  visit  me — when  I  furnished  him  with 
five  dollars  worth  of  books  to  sell ;  but  that 
same  night  he  stayed  out  in  the  streets  too 
late,  trying  to  dispose  of  his  stock,  when  the 
police  pounced  upon  him,  and  took  him  to 
the  station-house;  the  reason  was,  because 
they  found  him  in  the  streets  at  so  late  an 
hour  as  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  homeless 
and  friendless.     T   think   I   know  who  had 


84  A    VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


Willie  taken  up ;  there  is  good  reason  to 
believe  that  it  was  a  person  for  whom  Willie 
had  refused  to  sell  penholders,  and  who  took 
his  revenge  in  this  way. 

Willie  was  immediately  put  in  the  Nursery 
Department  of  the  House  of  Eefuge,  on 
Eandall's  Island.  From  his  not  appearing 
at  the  seminary  for  two  or  three  weeks,  we 
concluded  that  there  must  be  something 
wrong,  and  1  went  down  to  the  NcAVsboys' 
Lodging-House  to  find  him,  but  he  was  not 
there.  After  looking  for  him  three  or  four 
days,  I  met  a  boy  nicknamed  "Yankee,"  a 
funny  fellow,  full  of  puns  and  good  nature, 
who  told  me  that  he  saw  my  brother  going 
from  one  station-house  to  another,  in  the 
charge  of  two  policemen;  that  he  advised 
him  to  run  away,  but  that  he  did  not  do  so, 
although  he  had  a  good  chance.  "Yankee" 
thought  that  Willie  was  quite  a  simpleton 
for  not  taking  his  advice ;  but  Willie  had 
concluded  that  he  would  be  a  poor  simpleton 
if  he  should  take  it,  as  he  was  sure  to  be 


A    SITUATION    AT    THE    WEST.  85 

caught  again,  and  to  be  treated  more  roughly 
than  before. 

I  then  took  the  Third  Avenue  cars,  and 
went  to  the  Randall's  Island  Nursery  Depart- 
ment, and  saw  Willie.  When  we  first  met, 
he  began  to  cry,  but  soon  dried  his  tears, 
and  we  talked  matters  over.  When  I  left 
the  building,  it  was  with  the  resolution  to 
get  him  out  as  soon  as  I  could.  On  telling 
Mr.  C.  about  the  case,  he  advised  me  to  find 
a  place  in  the  country  for  Willie,  and  we 

applied    to   my   good    friend    Mr.  M y, 

of  the  Children's  Aid  Society,  who  kept  a 
good  look-out  for  a  })lace.  Some  two  or 
three  weeks  afterwards,  a  clergyman,  Mr. 

T ,  by  name,  came  to  New  York,  to  get 

some  children  to  go  out  West  with  him ;  he 
promised  to  find  my  brother  a  good  home. , 
He  kept  his  word,  took  him  West,  and  got 
him  a  comfortable  situation  with  a  barber, 
where  we  will  leave  him  for  the  present. 


_  J 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  LAST  HOME  TIE  SEYEKED. 

An  unexpected  summons — i\Iy  stepmother  in  distress — 
Father's  sickness — Our  visit  to  the  sick-bed — Father's 
last  words — His  death — Sister  Annie — Getting  Jane 
away  from  home — Her  new  home. 

Meanwhile,  during  Willie's  sojourn  at 
the  House  of  Kefuge,  an  event  occurred  of 
no  small  importance  in  our  little  history. 
Though  we  had  of  our  own  accord  made 
ourselves  homeless,  yet  we  had  a  father 
whose  house  might  be  our  home  whenever 
we  might  choose  to  make  it  so,  or  who  might 
at  any  moment  find  out  our  present  resi- 
dence, and  force  us  to  live  under  his  roof. 
But  this  was  to  be  the  case  no  longer. 

One  morning  I  was  sitting  on  Mr.  C.'s 
lounge,  studying  my  geography  lesson,  when 
there  was  a  quick,  loud  rap  on  the  door,  and 

(86) 


AN    USEXPKCTED    SUMMONS.  87 


wlio  should  appear  to  my  great  astonislimcnt 
but  my  stepmother.  I  expected  a  rough 
greeting,  but  soon  saw  that  she  was  in  no 
mood  to  be  angry  with  me.  She  had  found 
out  my  lodging-place,  and  sought  me  out,  to 
tell  me  that  father  was  very  sick,  and  that 
the  doctors  said  that  he  could  not  live  long ; 
that  it  was  his  last  wish  to  see  me  before  he 

died.      ]\[r.  AV ,   a   theological   student, 

who  was  present,  talked  with  her  some  time, 
and  then  she  went  away.  I  thought  it  was 
all  a  game  that  was  being  played,  for  the 
purpose  of  getting  me  back,  and  accordingly 
did  not  go  as  she  had  desired.  The  next 
morning  she  came  again,  but  with  no  better 
success,  and  the  next  succeeding  morning 
my  sister  came  with  her.  I  believed  my 
sister's  story,  and  therefore  at  once  asked 

Mr.  C ,  and  another  friend,  Mr.  II , 

to  accompany  me  on  a  visit  to  my  father,  to 
which  they  consented. 

We  went  up  to  the  corner  of  Fortieth 
street    and    Tenth   avenue,    down   into   the 


88  A   VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 

same  room  where  I  had  left  him  when  I  ran 
awaj,  and  sure  enough,  there  was  my  father 
lying  very  sick ;  it  was  seven  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  and  just  dark  enough  to  need  lights, 
and  as  my  stepmother  was  away  at  one  of 
the  neighbors,  I  sent  Jane  out  for  some 
candles. 

When  father  found  that  I  was  in  the 
room,  he  put  out  his  arm  to  shake  hands 
with  me ;  he  asked  me  if  I  was  Johnny ;  I 
told  him,  "Yes."  Mr.  C.  then  asked  him 
what  he  wished  me  to  do.  Father  answered, 
"Whatever  he  thinks  best  for  himself." 
Mr.  C.  then  talked  with  him  about  the  other 
world,  and  his  preparation  for  its  scenes. 
When  we  at  last  left  him,  we  felt  that  he 
was  beyond  all  human  aid.  He  died  that 
night  at  three  o'clock.  Hoav  strange  that  I 
should  be  permitted,  after  so  long  a  separa- 
tion, to  see  him  just  the  night  in  which  he 
died !  Three  days  afterwards  he  was  buried 
in  the  Potters'  Field,  without  a  funeral ! 

Such  was   the   sad  work  of  that  drink, 


father's  death.  89 


wliicli  maddens  and  destroys  its  victim !  It 
liad  degraded  liim  from  a  noble  position  in 
his  family  and  in  society,  to  all  the  wretched- 
ness of  drunken  poverty ;  it  now,  as  the  last 
terrible  act  of  its  fiendish  work,  cut  him  off 
from  the  living  in  the  prime  of  his  life,  sent 
him  without  even  the  formality  of  a  mourn- 
ing procession  to  his  grave,  and  scattered 
amono-  the  bones  of  the  refuse  of  a  vile  citv, 
those  remains  of  a  once  kind  and  loved 
father,  who  might  else  have  slept  his  last 
sleep  in  the  quiet  cemetery  consecrated  by 
the  ashes  of  his  ancestors,  and  side  by  side 
with  those  beloved  friends  who  had  gone 
before !  Then,  too,  some  neat  tablet  might 
have  borne  his  name,  and  told  us,  his  child- 
ren, in  after  years,  over  what  sacred  sod  we 
might  drop  the  tears  of  fond  remembrance. 
But  now  there  is  no  such  spot  sacred  to  his 
memory — and  our  inmost  feelings  tell  us 
that  it  had  been  better  had  the  restless  ocean 
received  his  body,  and  scattered  his  bones 
along  the  sands  of  its  shores,  to  bleach  under 
8* 


90  A    VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 

tlie  briglit  sun,  than  for  that  field,  whose  dust 
is  the  dust  of  the  low,  the  vile,  the  unknown, 
the  UNLOVED,  to  have  become  his  burial- 
place  ! 

About  two  weeks  after  this  sad  event,  I 
ventured  to  go  up  and  see  my  stepmother. 
She  had  moved  to  Forty-seventh  street, 
where  I  found  her;  I  gave  her  all  the 
money  that  I  had  at  the  time,  which  was 
one  dollar  and  tAventy-five  cents,  and  then 
returned  home. 

Not  very  long  afterwards,  sister  Annie 
came  to  the  seminary,  and  asked  me  to  get 
her  a  place  in  the  West,  as  our  stepmother 
did  not  use  her  exactly  right.  We  suc- 
ceeded in  finding  a  place  in  a  good  family, 
where  she  is  now  living  happily,  and  with 
improvement  to  herself. 

Then  we  consulted  Mr.  Van  Meter  about 
my  other  little  sisters,  who  needed  a  good 
home  very  much,  and  it  seemed  best  for  me 
to  get  Jane  at  least  away  from  her  present 
quarters. 


GETTIXG    JANE    AWAY    FROM    HOME.  91 


Witli  this  object  in  view,  I  went  up  to  see 
lier ;  our  stepmotlier  as  usual  was  very  poor, 
and  willing  to  listen  to  any  plan  for  making 
money ;  so  it  was  soon  arranged  that  Jane 
sliould  come  to  the  seminary,  and  I  should 
fit  her  out  with  a  stock  of  books  to  sell. 
She  came  the  very  next  day,  and  I  arranged 
quite  a  little  stock  for  her  to  begin  upon, 
which  seemed  a  much  more  respectable 
employment,  than  the  only  other  means  of 
living  which  was  left  her — namely,  begging. 
Two  days  after,  on  visiting  the  house,  my 
stepmother  asked  me  how  many  books  I  had 
given  Jane.  I  told  her,  and  she  replied  that 
then  there  was  one  missing ;  on  finding  this 
out,  she  fell  upon  Jane,  and  beat  her  unmer- 
cifully, and  while  my  poor  sister  lay  crying, 
and  writhing  upon  the  floor,  I  left  the  house 
determined  to  seize  the  earliest  opportunity 
to  release  her  from  this  tyranny.  Accord- 
ingly, a  short  time  after  this  occurrence,  I 
took  an  opportunity,  when  our  stepmother 
was  away,  to  ask  Jane  whether  she  would 


L- 


92  A    VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


not  like  to  get  a  pair  of  shoes.  On  her 
replying  yes,  we  took  a  red  car  and  rode 
down  to  Worth  street,  and  from  there  to  the 
Five  Points  ^Mission,  where  we  found  Mr. 
Van  Meter.  He  at  once  befriended  ray 
sister,  gave  her  new  shoes  and  clothes,  and 
asked  if  she  would  not  like  to  go  to  a  coun- 
try-home in  the  far  West.  She  replied  that 
she  would  like  it  very  much,  and  accord- 
ingly ^[r.  Van  Meter  took  her  out  with  his 
next  party,  and  put  her  into  a  very  nice 
home  in  Canton,  Illinois,  where  she  is  at 
present  staying. 

Meanwhile,  my  stepmother,  on  finding  that 
Jane  had  gone,  became  very  angry,  and,  on 
being  told  who  was  fitting  her  out  for  the 
West,  she  went  at  once  to  Mr.  Van  Meter, 
and  tried  to  make  him  give  Jane  up.  Find- 
ing this  of  no  avail,  she  applied  at  a  police 
court ;  but  as  she  had  proved  herself  so  harsh 
and  cruel  a  parent,  the  law  decided  against 
her,  and  she  had  to  return  home  without 
gaining  her  point. 


CHAPTER    VII. 


THE  WEST. 

Dealing  in  furniture — An  unprofitable  job — Plans  for 
going  to  college — City  of  Elms — Room  in  Divinity 
College — Public  school  again — Motives  for  a  -western 
trip — Stock  in  trade — The  journey  undertaken — Mak- 
ing a   ^^  sensation'" — Chicago — Iowa   City — A  glimpse 

at  a  western  school — A  long  stage  ride — Mr.  P , 

before  he  went  into  the  water — Mr.  P ,  after  he 

came  out — Meeting  Willie  at  Fort  Desmoines — Com- 
forts of  having  a  baby  for  a  fellow  passenger — Visit 
to  Jane — Return  to  Chicago — Kind  friends — Atlantic 
telegraph — Cable  celebration. 

At  last  then  Willie,  Mary  Jane,  and  Annie, 
had  all  secured  good  homes  in  the  country, 
far  from  New  York  city,  and  its  influences. 
I  now  felt  more  free  to  look  around,  and  see 
how  I  could  dispose  of  myself  in  the  best 
manner.  At  different  times  I  had  made 
some  money,  by  buying  second-hand  furni- 

(93) 


94 


A    VOICE    FROM    THE    NEVTSBOYS. 


ture  of  tlie  students,  mending,  painting,  and 
varnishing  it,  and  then  selling  it  at  a  consi- 
derable profit.  Becoming  bolder  by  success, 
I  concluded  to  make  a  larger  venture,  and 
borrowed  thirty  dollars,  which  added  to  ten 
of  my  own  gave  me  a  capital  of  forty,  with 
which  I  bought  quite  a  stock  of  furniture. 
This  I  hoped,  after  painting  and  refitting  it, 
to  sell  for  eighty  dollars,  but  I  was  mistaken, 
for  the  amount  that  I  succeeded  in  realizing 
for  the  whole  was  only  sixty  dollars,  and  a 
large  portion  of  that  being  on  trust,  quite  a 
portion  of  it  never  got  to  my  pocket,  on 
account  of  several  persons  neglecting  to  pay 
me  for  their  purchases. 

My  profits  for  this  job  did  not  pay  for  my 
board  and  other  expenses,  and  before  long,  a 
debt  of  seventy-five  dollars  stared  me  in  the 
face.  I  was  still  going  to  school,  and  getting 
much  interested  in  study.  Hearing  the  stu- 
dents around  me  talking  very  often  about 
college,  I  began  to  get  an  ambition  to  go 
through  college  myself,  and  especially  if  it 


CITY    OF    ELMS. 


95 


could  be  sucli  a  noble  one  as  Yale.  Witli  the 
intention  of  trying  to  acquire  an  education 
in  New  Haven,  wliile  I  supported  myself, 
partially  at  least,  by  trading  witli  the  large 
body  of  students  in  that  place,  I  soon  went 
to  the  famous  City  of  Elms,  and  by  invita- 
tion made  my  home  with  a  good  friend  of 
mine,  a  graduate  of  Union  Theological  Semi- 
nary, at  this  time  continuing  his  studies  in 
New  Haven,  and  rooming  in  Divinity  Col- 
lege. 

By  the  kindness  of  friends,  I  was  received 
into  one  of  the  public  schools,  and  went  on 
for  about  six  months  with  my  studies ;  but 
to  my  sorrow  found  it  impossible  to  devote 
so  much  of  my  time  to  keep  up  with  the 
regular  classes  in  the  school,  and  yet  earn 
enough  to  pay  my  current  expenses,  though 
many  of  the  students  of  the  college  patronized 
me  in  my  trading,  which  I  carried  on  even- 
ings, and  on  Wednesday  and  Saturday  after- 
noons. There  seemed,  therefore,  to  be  no 
way  but  for  me  to  give  up  study  for  awhile, 


96  A    VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


and  try  to  earn  enougli  to  pay  off  my  debts, 
and  if  possible  lay  up  sometliing  to  enable 
me  to  resume  my  studies  again ;  and  I  made 
this  my  business  during  tlie  remainder  of 
the  college  year. 

When  the  summer  vacation  of  1858  came, 
and  my  customers  the  students  were  dis- 
persed, I  concluded,  for  several  reasons,  to 
make  a  trip  westward.  Nine  months  had 
passed  since  any  news  had  reached  me  from 
brother  Willie,  and  I  wanted  to  visit  him 
and  see  what  mi^ht  be  the  matter.    Another 

O 

motive  was,  the  hope,  in  some  way  or  other, 
to  find  the  means  of  making  some  money  to 
help  me  out  of  my  trouble.  It  cannot  be 
denied  that  a  strong  desire  to  see  something 
of  this  great  country,  had  no  small  effect  in 
inducing  me  to  undertake  this  journey. 

The  first  step  was  to  lay  in  a  stock  of  pen- 
knives, and  a  few  other  small  articles  which 
I  could  trade  off  on  the  journey,  as  a  means 
of  paying  my  travelling-expenses.  Then  I 
went  down  to  New  York,  and  called'  on  my 


.TOURNKY    TO    THE    WEST. 


97 


old  and  kind  friend,  Mr.  Van  Meter,  whom 
I  found  on  the  point  of  taking  out  a  party 
of  boys  and  girls  to  homes  in  the  West ;  and 
as  he  could  take  me  to  Chicago  for  seven 
dollars,  while  it  would  cost  me  otherwise. at 
least  fourteen  besides  my  meals,  I  at  once 
availed  myself  of  so  excellent  a  chance. 

I  procured,  through  my  good  friend,  a 
through  ticket  to  Iowa  City ;  and  joined  the 
lively  little  party  under  his  care.  AVe  had  a 
very  interesting  journey.  When  we  reached 
Dunkirk,  the  western  terminus  of  the  Erie 
Railroad,  the  people  of  the  village  collected 
in  quite  a  throng  around  the  cars  that  we 
were  in,  and  Mr.  Van  Meter  made  them  a 
speech ;  after  which  the  good  folks  went  to 
their  homes,  and  soon  returned,  bringing  to 
the  children  plenty  o£  crackers  and  cakes. 
After  eating  them  our  little  company  sang 
a  song,  of  which  this  was  the  principal 
idea — 

"  We'll  stand  the  storm,  it  won't  be  long, 
We'll  anchor  bj-e-and-bye," 


98  A   VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOTS. 


whicli  seemed  quite  appropriate  to  the  occa- 
sion. Then  the  stout  iron  horse  snorted,  and 
took  one  or  two  long  breaths,  and  started 
briskly  on  his  westward  way. 

There  were  quite  a  number  of  such  little 
gatherings,  at  the  more  important  places  on 
the  route,  as  the  party  moved  on;  and  at 
almost  every  place  some  one  would  offer  to 
take  one  or  more  of  the  children  to  their 
own  homes  and  provide  for  them,  which 
offers  were  gladly  accepted.  The  best  child- 
ren were  of  course  picked  out  first,  and  the 
company  kept  dwindling  down  as  it  went 
on,  till  at  last  Mr,  Yan  Meter  found  himself 
alone !  All  the  members  of  his  little  charge 
had  been  put  in  comfortable  homes,  and  their 
kind  guardian  hastened  back  to  New  York 
to  collect  another  part}'. 

It  is  wonderful  to  notice  the  warm-hearted- 
ness of  the  people  of  the  great  West.  I 
think  I  may  say  that  I  never  met  kinder 
people  than  those  Westerners ;  although  there 
are  more  good  people  all  over  the  United 


IOWA    CITT. 


99 


States  tlian  one  would  perhaps  imagine, 
unless  he  had  found  it  out  in  his  own  expe- 
rience. Yet  the  Westerners,  as  a  class,  are 
as  kind  as  any  people  on  the  globe ;  their 
generosity  to  me  I  can  never  forget. 

At  Chicago  I  parted  with  ]\[r.Yan  Meter's 
company,  and  started  directly  for  Iowa  City, 
which  I  reached  after  traveling  one  day  and 
one  night.  I  put  up  at  the  Clinton  House, 
and  soon  afterwards  hunted  up  my  sister 
Annie,  who  proved  to  be  in  a  very  comfort- 
able home. 

In  order  to  find  where  my  brother  AVillie 
was,  it  was  necessary  to  call  on  the  Eev.  Mr. 

T ,  the  gentleman  in  whose  charge  Willie 

and  Annie  went  to  the  West.  Mr.  T.  lived 
a  mile  or  two  out  of  town,  and  in  trying  to 
find  his  house,  I  wandered  around  in  various 
paths  through  the  woods  for  about  half  an 
hour,  and  at  last  came  back  to  exactly  the 
point  from  which  I  had  started.  Getting 
discouraged  at  this  attempt,  I  made  my  way 
to  the  nearest  house,  where  a  German  boy 


100 


A   VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


was  lounging  on  tlie  doorstep.  He  knew 
Mr.  T.'s  house,  and  on  my  promising  liim  a 
dime  for  his  trouble,  lie  agreed  to  guide  me 
to  the  place.  My  guide  was  a  true  German 
boy,  and  entertained  me  on  the  way  by  talk- 
ing about  the  Rhine,  and  about  the  pleasures 
of  a  farmer's  life,  and  so  forth,  till  we  sud- 
denly came  upon  the  house  for  which  I  had 
searched,  and  which  was  completely  shut  in 
by  trees ;  it  was  in  fact  a  house  in  the  very 
inidst  of  the  woods.  Dismissing  my  German 
guide,  I  inquired  at  the  house  for  the  Eev. 

Mr.  T ,  and  was  ushered  into  a  little  office, 

where  he  was  sitting.  On  introducing  my- 
self, he  said  he  was  very  glad  to  see  me,  and 
asked  me  a  great  many  kind  questions.  He 
then  informed  me  that  my  brother  was  stay- 
ing with  a  farmer  at  Fort  Desmoines,  and 
after  talking  awhile  longer,  he  asked  me  to 
step  into  his  school-room,  and  hear  his 
scholars  sing.  The  room  was  about  ten  feet 
by  eight  in  size,  and  contained  about  a 
dozen    scholars,    who    did    sing   finely  for 


A   LOXG    STAGE    RIDE.  101 


children  of  the  Avilderness.  Mr.  T.  closed 
the  exercises  with  prayer,  and  then  we  had 
supper,  which  finished  up  my  visit  to  this 
hospitable  family. 

The  next  day  I  started  for  Fort  Desmoines 
by  stage.  It  was  a  long  journey — one  hun- 
dred and  twenty  miles  of  stage-riding  is  by 
no  means  to  be  laughed  at,  especially  in  wet 
weather  and  on  rough  roads ;  yet  it  was  in 
some  respects  a  pleasant  ride,  for  there  was 
agreeable  company  in  the  stage.  Besides 
the  driver,  there  were  two  men  and  two 
women  (one  of  the  latter  a  German),  and  a 
German  boy.  The  first  obstacle  which  we 
met  was  a  j)ond  of  water  stretching  across 
the  road,  in  which  the  horses  had  to  wade. 
As  we  tried  to  make  our  way  through  it, 
we  kept  getting  deeper  and  deeper,  till  I 
thought  in  a  moment  more  the  stage  would 
be  afloat ;  as  it  would  not  do  to  venture 
much  further  at  random,  the  driver  called 
upon  a  boy,  who  was  crossing  on  horseback 
at  the  same  time  and  who  was  evidently 
9* 


102  A    VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


acquainted  with  the  spot,  to  guide  us  over 
tlie  shallowest  part,  and  with  his  assistance 
we  got  safely  over.     Pretty  soon  one  of  the 

gentlemen  in  the  stage,  a  Mr.  D ,  who 

had  heard  me  give  an  account  of  myself  at 
the  Clinton  House,  in  Chicago,  called  upon 
me  to  repeat  it  for  the  benefit  of  our  fellow- 
travellers;  and  I  did  so,  and  I  believe  suc- 
ceeded in  interesting  them,  for  the  driest 
original  thing  told  to  a  weary  stage-traveller 
is  acceptable  even  when  it  would  not  be 
elsewhere; — as  it  helps  to  while  away  the 
time.  Then  we  had  a  general  conversation, 
though  our  German  friends  could  only  talk 
in  a  very  few  words  of  very  broken  English. 
However,  they  made  up  for  want  of  words 
by  the  amusement  which  their  few  broken 
phrases  afforded  us.  If  there  was,  as  fre- 
quently was  the  case  to  our  sorrow,  a  tre- 
mendous jolt,  throwing  us  off  from  our  seats, 
we  were  sure  to  have  fun  from  our  friends 
in  the  German  corner.  The  principal  variety 
afforded  us  in  the  daytime,   however,  was 


AMlSIXa    INCIDENT. 


103 


the  Stoppage  of  the  coach  at  the  proper 
hours  to  allow  us  to  get  our  meals,  and 
these  were  served  up  to  us  in  true  and  rough 
Western  style.  During  the  night  we  spent 
the  time  trying  to  sleep,  while  the  stage 
was  evidently  trying  quite  as  hard  to  keep 
us  from  sleeping  by  giving  us  a  constant 
shaking  up  ;  but  we  triumphed  after  all,  and 
managed  to  get  considerable  sleep. 

Quite  an  amusing  incident  happened  on 
this  trip.  At  one  time  the  stage-driver,  iMr. 
P.  by  name,  having  refreshed  himself  rather 
too  often  at  the  taverns  along  the  road,  was 
just  about  "  three  sheets  in  the  wind."  when 
he  alighted  from  the  top  of  the  stage  to  water 
the  horses  at  a  pond  of  water  connected  with 
a  stream  called  "  Squaw's  Creek."  Mr.  P.  took 
the  pail  in  order  to  get  the  horses  a  token  of 
his  kind  regard  for  their  welfare,  and  stooped 
over  the  water  to  carry  out  his  intentions. 
I  suppose  the  liquor  which  he  had  drunk 
last  had  not  yet  had  time  to  get  doAvn  to  his 
lower   extremities;   at   any    rate,    for   some 


I    L. 

I 


104  A  VOICE  PROM  THE  .NEWSBOYS. 


reason  or  other  he  proved  to  be  top-heavy— 
consequently,  as  he  stooped,  his  head  and 
shoulders  weighed  down  so  heavily  as  to 
destroy  his  balance,  and  he  dipped  head  fore- 
most into  the  water!  Happily  there  was 
another  man  with  him  on  the  stage,  who 
jumped  off  and  saved  him  from  very  serious 
consequences. 

But  it  was  droll  enough  to  make  the  most 
serious  person  laugh  to  see  Mr.  P.'s  figure 
after  he  got  out  of  the  creek ;  he  stood  for 
some  minutes  in  a  stooping  posture,  trying 
to  open  his  eyes,  as  the  water,  just  about  "as 
clear  as  mud,"  was  dripping  from  his  hands 
and  fingers,  nose,  face,  and  chin !  Although 
we  tried  to  control  our  laughter,  out  of  sym- 
pathy for  his  feelings,  it  was  an  absolute 
impossibility.  The  Dutch  woman  and  the 
lady  passenger  stuffed  their  pocket  hand- 
kerchiefs into  their  mouths  to  keep  down 
their  merriment,  but  the  irresistible  titters 
would  come  in  spite  of  all  their  efforts.  I 
turned  my  head  in  the  opposite  direction  and 


WILLIE    AT    FORT    DESMOINES.  105 


laughed  witliout  making  any  noise;  while 
most  of  the  men  managed  to  postpone  their 
laughter  long  enough  after  the  occurrence  to 
cause  the  subject  of  all  this  merriment  as 
little  ill-feeling  as  possible. 

In  this  way  we  travelled  for  three  days 
and  two  nights,  when  we  arrived  at  Fort 
Desmoines,  the  capital  of  the  state  of  Iowa, 
and  I  put  up  at  the  Fort  Desmoines  House, 
which  I  found  very  well  kept,  and  can  re- 
commend to  any  traveller  who  wishes  a  com- 
fortable lodging-place.  The  next  morning  I 
called  on  a  Mr.  M ,  with  whom  my  bro- 
ther had  first  stayed  on  reaching  the  city ; 
and  was  by  him  directed  to  William's  pre- 
sent abode.  This  was  two  miles  out  of 
town,  and  it  was  raining  heavily,  and  the 
mud  was  very  deep,  but  I  got  safely  through 
the  storm,  and  reached  the  house  at  about 
ten  o'clock.  "William  was  not  in,  at  the 
time,  but  soon  made  his  appearance,  and  wc 
met  with  joy,  after  our  two  years'  separa- 
tion :  he  was  taller  than  when  I  had  seen 


106  A   VOICE   FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


liim  last,  mucli  darker  in  complexion,  and 
very  scantily  clothed,  showing  marks  of 
having  had  a  rough  time  of  it ;  but  he  was 
strong  and  healthy  in  appearance.  In  the 
course  of  the  day,  I  learned  the  particulars 
of  his  experience  in  the  West.  He  had 
changed  employers  a  number  of  times — had 
lived  mostly  in  Io\ya,  but  went  with  one  of 
his  employers  to  Kansas.  He  had  been 
occupied  at  different  times  as  peddler,  news- 
boy, errand-boy,  farmer-boy,  servant,  and 
then  school-boy  again.  It  seemed  best  that 
he  should  return  East  with  me  for  awhile; 
and  to  enable  him  to  do  this,  we  had  to 
pay  an  early  visit  to  the  tailor's  and  shoe- 
maker's, on  reaching  Fort  Desmoines,  that 
he  might  present  a  decent  appearance  while 
travelling. 

We  took  our  departure  at  an  early  day  in 
the  stage  for  Iowa  City ;  just  before  starting. 
we  met  Mr.  D.,  who  was  one  of  my  fellow- 
passengers  on  the  outward  trip  to  Fort  Des- 
moines, and  he  kindly  slipped  a  dollar  into 


( 


A    BABY    FELLOW-rASSENGER.  107 


my  baud  to  help  me  on  my  journey.  There 
were  in  the  stage,,  besides  ourselves,  three 
gentleman  and  three  lady  passengers,  to 
say  nothing  of  a  baby.  When  we  were 
under  full  head^vay,  we  had  a  lively  time 
inside ;  every  time  that  the  stage  jolted,  the 
baby  would  cry,  the  ladies  would  exclaim 
"O,  mercy!"  and  a  big,  fat  gentleman  next 
to  me  would  be  thrown  up  from  his  seat  and 
settle  down  into  my  lap,  almost  crushing  me 
up  into  the  corner ;  and  when  I  complained, 
he  only  laughed,  in  a  way  that  seemed  to 
imply  that  it  was  a  good  joke,  and  served  me 
right  for  being  such  a  little  boy !  Then,  to 
add  to  our  troubles,  we  had  to  stop  every 
little  while  for  the  baby  to  rest.  The  last 
night  but  one  of  the  journey,  at  two  o'clock 
in  the  moi'ning,  we  were  within  only  seven 
hours'  ride  of  Iowa  City ;  but  we  had  to  stop 
for  five  long  hours  for  the  sake  of  that  same 
troublesome,  but  unconscious  baby.  Then 
when  three  hours  of  good  driving  would 
have  brought  us  into  the  city,  it  suddenly 


103  A    VOICE    IROM    TUE    NEWSBOYS. 


began  to  rain,  and  shortly  to  pour  in  tor- 
rents, which  very  soon  made  the  road  quite 
impassable,  and  we  had  to  spend  another 
night  waiting  for  better  fortune. 

We  stayed  at  the  Clinton  House,  in  Iowa 
City,  three  days,  and  spent  the  time  in  look- 
ing around  the  place.  A  little  boy  with 
whom  I  got  acquainted,  took  me  to  the 
grave-yard  and  pointed  me  to  the  spot  where 
his  sister  lay  buried  under  one  of  the  new- 
made  graves :  he  said  that  his  sister  was 
always  very  good  while  she  was  alive ;  that 
she  never  made  her  friends  any  trouble ; 
that  she  was  now  in  heaven,  he  hoped  and 
believed;  and  the  thought  seemed  to  give 
him  so  much  comfort  that  he  could  even 
look  cheerfully  upon  her  green,  sodded 
grave.  As  he  told  me  this,  I  thought  of  my 
own  precious  mother,  whose  remains  had 
slumbered  for  years  in  a  quiet  and  beautiful 
spot,  marked  with  a  clean  and  tasteful  slab 
of  marble ;  and  then  of  my  dear  father,  who 
was  buried  in  a  very  different  way  almost 


VISIT    TO    JANE.  109 


uncared  for,  in  the  Potters'  Field.  Some  very 
sad  thouglits  came  up  in  my  mind,  but  I  Avas 
too  soon  hurried  into  new  scenes  to  be 
allowed  to  indulge  in  them  very  long. 

We  next  set  out  for  Canton,  Illinois,  where 
my  sister  Jane  was  living.  The  conductors 
of  trains  were  very  kind  to  us,  and  passed  us 
over  their  lines  free  of  charge,  which  Avas 
very  acceptable  to  us,  as  we  then  had  but 
five  dollars  in  our  pockets. 

Jane  was  staying  with  a  nice  old  lady,  and 
was  treated  very  kindly.  This  lady  made 
our  visit  quite  pleasant,  by  introducing  us  to 
a  little  party  of  young  girls,  in  Avhose  com- 
pany we  had  quite  a  frolicsome  time  of  it, 
swinging,  singing,  picking  apples,  and  en- 
gaging in  many  other  sports  that  carried  me 
back  in  memory  to  my  early  happy  home, 
and  furnished  many  pleasant  thoughts  to  my 
mind.  "When  the  time  came  to  leave  this 
pleasant  place,  we  felt  sad,  and  almost 
wished  that  we  could  take  up  our  abode  in 
Canton  with  such  good  friends ;  but  we  bid 


10 


110  A    VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


Jane  good-bye,  and  leaving  lier  in  tears  at 
our  departure,  we  took  tlie  cars  for  the  East. 
On  reaching  Peoria,  we  spent  some  time  ped- 
dling pen-knives,  to  help  pay  the  expenses 
of  the  journey,  as  our  stock  had  dwindled 
to  three  dollars ;  and  when  we  took  the  cars 
again  for  Chicago,  the  conductor,  after  hear- 
ing our  story,  passed  us  free  to  that  city, 
where  we  put  up  at  the  Madison  House. 

In  Chicago  I  found  several  kind  persons, 
who  became  good  friends  of  mine ;  particu- 
larly a  Captain  G y,  who  introduced  me 

to  a  Mrs.  P-- ,  and  this  lady  at  once  in- 
vited us  to  make  her  house  our  home  during 
our  stay ;  we  gladly  accepted  her  offer.  Her 
son,  John  P ,  a  very  nice  young  gentle- 
man, kindly  showed  us  the  sights  of  the 
city — the  most  interesting  of  which  were 
the  immense  storehouses  for  grain,  and  the 
grand  reservoir,  which  holds  the  supply  of 
water  for  the  city.  We  spent  eight  days 
pleasantly  in  Chicago,  and  the  last  was  that 
on   which    the   great  Atlantic   Telegraphic 


CABLE    CELEBRATION. 


Ill 


Cable  Celebration  took  place.  The  illumi- 
nations and  fireworks  were  magnificent,  and 
from  what  I  saw,  I  tbouglit  that  there  was 
more  evidence  of  public  spirit  in  Chicago, 
than  in  any  other  city  that  I  had  ever  seen. 


chaptp:r  viil 

THE  CITY  OF  ELMS. 

We  call  on  our  stepmother  at  New  York — Her  condition 
— We  take  Jonathan  with  us  to  New  Haven — Hire  a 
room — A  bold  attempt  at  housekeeping — Accidents 
will  happen  in  the  best  regulated  families — Youthful 
discipline — Its  utter  failure — The  row — A  busybodj- — 
Breaking  up  housekeeping  —  Jonathan  goes  to  the 
Orphan  Asylum — Willie  returns  West. 

We  got  along  very  comfortably  on  our 
return  trip.  On  reaching  New  Haven  I  had 
twenty  dollars  in  my  pocket,  for  which  I 
was  indebted  partly  to  my  success  in  selling 
knives,  but  mostly  to  the  great  kindness  of 
our  good  Chicago  friends,  who  gave  us  as 
much  as  seventeen  dollars  in  money,  while 
Captain  G- — — y  presented  me  also  with  a 
paper,  which  was  the  means  of  passing  me 
over  the  railroad /?-ee — to  New  Haven. 

(112) 


OUR    STErSIOTlIER's    CONDITION.  113 


"When  we  arrived  in  New  York  we  called 
to  sec  our  stepmother ;  we  found  her  living 
in  Seventeenth  street,  in  the  highest  story  of 
a  house,  between  Ninth  and  Tenth  avenues ; 
she  was  lying  on  the  floor  of  a  small  room, 
and  was  covered  with  an  old  shawl ;  we 
could  not  make  out  whether  she  was  drunk 
or  only  tired.  The  only  furniture  in  the 
room  consisted  of  two  chairs  and  a  stove, 
while  the  floor  was  the  only  sleeping-place. 
My  little  brother  Jonathan,  now  five  years 
old,  was  living  so  wretchedly  in  this  misera- 
ble place — half-fed,  and  not  half-clothed — 
that  I  resolved  to  take  him  to  better  quarters. 
Through  Willie,  I  got  liim  away  from  the 
house,  and  we  visited  a  clothing  store,  where 
wc  substituted  decent  clothing  for  his  dirty 
rags.  He  then  accompanied  us  to  New 
Haven,  and  seemed  glad  enough  to  escape 
from  his  former  abode. 

It  was  my  intention  to  rent  a  room  in 
New  Haven,  and  live  there  with  my  two 
brothers,  while  we  should  pay  our  way  by 
10* 


114  A    VOICE    mOM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


the  trading  wHcli  Willie  and  myself  could 
do.  So  we  hired  a  room  on  Chapel  street, 
and  fitted  it  up  -with  a  bed,  bedstead,  a  table, 
chairs,  and  a  stove  for  cooking  purposes. 
For  a  week  we  got  along  pretty  well,  but 
then  we  had  trouble.  Poor  Jonathan  was 
quite  too  young  to  take  care  of  himself,  and 
as  I  had  to  spend  much  of  my  time  in  trying 
to  earn  our  support,  it  was  necessary  to  leave 
him  in  Willie's  charge  very  often  for  a  whole 
afternoon.  But  Willie  himself  would  get 
tired  of  trying  to  amuse  his  brother,  and 
then  there  would  be  trouble.  In  short,  we 
were  too  young  and  inexperienced  to  succeed 
in  our  attempts  at  housekeeping,  and  soon 
had  to  abandon  the  plan. 

In  fact,  it  ended  itself  in  a  curious  manner. 
One  Saturday  afternoon,  my  two  brothers 
were  in  the  room,  while  I  was  engaged  in 
trading  around  the  college  buildings,  trying 
to  earn  enough  to  pay  for  our  Sunday's 
meals.  As  might  naturally  be  expected, 
Jonathan  got  very  tired  towards  evening, 


YOUTHFUL    niSCIPLINE.  115 

and  exhausted  all  Willie's  efforts  to  comfort 
him,  and  finally,  it  seems,  his  patience  also. 

Willie,  not  being  used  to  such  a  charge, 
hardly  knew  what  he  ought  to  do,  but  finally 
got  it  into  his  head  that  it  would  be  very 
proper  to  put  his  brother  to  bed,  and  try 
to  get  him  to  sleep  himself  out  of  trouble. 
So  he  made  Jonathan  go  to  bed ;  but  the 
little  fellow  not  feeling  at  all  sleepy,  at  last 
rebelled,  and  tried  to  get  up.  Willie,  all  out 
of  patience  by  this  time,  and  thinking  that 
if  this  effort  were  to  succeed,  all  family  go- 
vernment would  be  at  an  end,  contrived  to 
enforce  discipline  by  fastening  the  sheets  in 
such  a  way  as  to  bind  Jonathan  down  to  the 
bed! 

This  of  course  capped  the  climax ;  no 
other  resource  being  left  but  one,  poor  Jona- 
than adopted  this  one,  and  3'ellcd  with  all 
his  might ! 

As  a  natural  result,  the  tenants  of  the 
neighboring  rooms  came  running  in,  and 
finding  things  in  this  condition,  at  once  libe- 


116  A    VOICE    FROM    TUE    NEWSBOYS. 


I  rated  Jonathan,  and  one  of  them  crave  Willie 

a  severe  beating. 

When  I  came  to  the  building,  about  an 
hour  afterwards,  I  found  an  excited  crowd, 
composed  mostly  of  the  tenants,  who  accused 
me  of  cruelty  as  soon  as  they  saw  me,  and 
would  not  let  me  go  into  the  room.  Finding 
that  I  could  not  do  anything  alone,  I  applied 
to  the  friend  with  whom  I  lived  during 
most  of  my  stay  in  New  Haven,  who  at  once 
went  down  to  the  house  with  me,  obtained 
admittance  into  the  room  where  Jonathan 
was,  and  explained  to  those  present  the  true 
state  of  the  case.  We  had  a  great  deal  of 
difficulty,  however,  in  setting  matters  right 
again,  principally  because  of  the  presence 
of  a  narrow-minded  busy-body  in  the  shape 
of  a  woman,  who  got  the  idea  into  her  head 
that  Jonathan  was  the  son  of  respectable 
parents  in  some  part  of  the  country,  who 
had  been  stolen  by  us,  and  was  being 
abused ;  nothing  in  the  world  would  con- 
vince her  of  the  contrary,  and  she  employed 


WILLIE    RETURNS    TO    THE    WEST. 


117 


herself  evidently  witli  great  satisfaction  in 
retailing  the  story  to  every  one  who  would 
listen  to  the  rattle  of  her  tongue.  For  aught 
I  know  to  the  contrary,  she  firmly  believes 
her  version  of  the  matter  to  this  day  ! 

Our  housekeeping  of  course  could  not 
stand  such  a  shock  as  this  was ;  and  by  the 
advice  of  friends,  we  broke  up  our  new 
arrangements. 

Jonathan  went  into  the  hands  of  kind 
people,  at  the  New  Haven  Orphan  Asylum ; 
Willie  returned  again  to  the  West,  with  a 
fresh  party  of  boys  under  Mr.  Van  Meter's 
care,  to  try  his  fortune  again  in  some  kind 
family, — while,  relieved  of  the  cares  of  this 
little  household,  I  have  since  had  my  time 
more  to  myself,  but  yet  find  it  hard  work  to 
be  faithful  to  my  customers  and  to  my  hooks 
at  the  same  time. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

REMINISCENCES. 

A  visit  to  the  Lodging-House  in  1860— ISIr.  Brace's 
speech— New  faces— The  rehearsal— The  supper  and 
Sunday  dinner- Pleasant  memories— Songs— Verses 
for  the  newsboy  to  remember. 

The  Lodging-House  lias  changed  con- 
siderably since  I  was  one  of  its  inmates. 
There  is  not  a  single  boy  there  now  who 
enjoyed  its  comforts  at  that  time.  In  order 
to  renew  its  acquaintance,  and  call  back 
pleasant  memories,  I  visited  it  a  feAV  days  ago. 
On  my  way  to  the  place,  I  could  not  help 
asking  myself— AVhere  is  William  Thomas 
Lackey — where  is  Jemmy  Malpus— or  where 
are  any  of  my  former  companions  in  those 
pleasant  walls  ?  They  have  all  gone  !  most 
of  them  happily  to  good  homes  in  the  West, 

(118) 


MR.    brace's    speech.  119 

and  we  need  not  be  very  mucli  surprised  if 
we  hear  of  some  of  them,  one  of  these  days, 
as  great  men  who  are  helping  to  steer  the 
Ship  of  State,  or  sitting  behind  judges' 
desks,  or  filling  honored  pulpits  with  heaven- 
blessed  talent. 

As  I  approach  the  door  of  the  Lodging- 
House.  in  the  top  story  of  the  Sun  Buildings, 
I  hear  a  voice  and  stop  to  listen.  It  is  the 
well-known  voice  of  'Mr.  Brace ;  he  is  making 
the  boys  a  speech,  and  is  telling  them,  for  their 
encouragement,  of  a  senator  who  was  once  a 
newsboy,  and  showing  them  that  perseve- 
rance and  industry  can  accomplish  almost 
everything.  The  s]3eech  is  through ;  I  open 
the  door  and  walk  in ;  Mr.  Brace  gives  me 
a  friendly  shake  of  the  hand,  and  a  kind 
word  or  two  of  encouragement ;  then  taking 
his  hat,  leaves  the  room. 

I  look  around  ;i.ud  recognise  at  once  that 
fiimiliar  "Bank"  with  its  hundred  boxes 
and  its  hundred  openings  to  receive  the  coin. 
And  so  one  by  one  all  the  well-remembered 


120  A    VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 

features  of  this  my  former  home  pass  under 
my  eye.  But  the  faces  of  the  boys  gathered 
in  groups  here  and  there  in  some  conversa- 
tion or  sport  are  all  new  and  strange,  and  I 
cannot  feel  quite  at  home.  They  seem  to  be 
enjoying  themselves  just  as  we  used  to  do ; 
a  little  group  of  those  most  theatrically 
inclined  are  just  at  this  moment  trying  to 
enact  some  of  the  scenes  of  Shakspeare's 
"Macbeth,"  which  they  have  become  ac- 
quainted with  at  the  theatres,  and  they  are 
doing  this  perhaps  not  merely  for  their  pre- 
sent amusement,  but  with  an  eye  to  "turning 
an  honest  penny"  by  declaiming  in  this  way 
at  the  hotels,  after  a  little  more  practice  in 
private.  There  is  one  thing  in  the  room 
which  I  am  sure  is  new.  It  is  a  row  of 
receivers  or  boilers  on  a  stout  shelf  raised  a 
few  feet  from  the  floor.  I  ask  about  them, 
and  am  told  that  they  are  for  holding  tea 
and  coffee ;  and  that  now  instead  of  charging 
the  boys  six  cents  for  lodging  alone,  they 
charge  eight  cents,  and  give  them  a  supper 


SrPI'ER    AND    SrXOAY    DINNI:R. 


121 


in  addition.  I  am  told  also  that  tliis  is  used 
as  a  strong  inducement  to  keep  the  boys 
from  the  theatres ;,  for  if  they  go,  ihey  lose 
their  supper,  which  to  the  hungry  newsboy 
is  a  great  loss.  Thc}^  also  have  a  Sunday 
dinner  for  boys  Avho  prefer  a  quiet  day  in 
the  Lodging-House  to  working  on  the  Sab- 
bath, I  am  sure  that  those  who  have  paid 
any  attention  to  the  matter  must  notice  that 
there  is  much  less  noise  in  the  streets  on 
Sunday,  from  the  newsboys,  than  formerly 
— and  although  it  may  partly  be  owing  to 
the  vigilance  of  the  Metropolitan  Police,  I 
think  it  is  owing  still  more  to  the  effects  of 
the  Sunday  dinner. 

Mr.  Tracy,  who  formerly  had  charge  of 
the  lodging-house,  has  left  it,  and  is  now 
employed  in  the  Children's  Aid  Society,  in 
providing  Western  homes  for  children  who 
arc  in  need  of  homes.  This  short  visit  on 
the  whole  has  been  a  pleasant  one ;  it  has 
recalled  the  old  scenes  in  that  place,  and 
11 


122  A   VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


reminds  me  that  we  were  liappy  then,  thanks 
to  the  kindness  of  our  many  city  friends. 

And  now,  just  as  a  last  remembrance  of 
those  days,  I  will  call  up  a  few  of  those 
words  we  used  to  sing  together  in  our  social 
evening  hours.  One  was  of  (jolden  visions— 
thus : — 

"  IIo  !  boys,  ho  ! 
To  California  go ! 
Where  the  golden  ore, 
Lies  rich  in  store, 
On  the  banks  of  Sacramento's  shore!" 

Or  this,  our  favorite  hymn,  with  visions 
more  golden  still — -. 

"  I  want  to  be  an  angel,"  &c. 

As  the  Indian  vanishes  toward  the  West, 
at  the  sound  of  the  woodman's  axe,  and  be- 
fore the  march  of  civilization,  so  vanishes  the 
newsboy  at  the  sound  of  the  voices  of  good 
men,  and  before  the  march  of  intellectual 
culture,  and  although  fresh  newsboys  rise 
up  to  take  the  places  of  the  departed,  still 


_J 


VERSES    FOR    NEWSBOYS    TO    REMEMBER. 


1-23 


their  numbers  are  growing  less  and  less. 
Not  less  in  tlie  same  way  as  the  Indian,  but 
"beautifully  less;"  not  dying  out  as  the 
poor  freedom-loving  and  slavery -hating  Kcd 
man,  but  dying  out  of  sin  and  wickedness ; 
dying  to  the  temptations  of  a  large  city,  and 
going  to  enjoy  a  gentler  life  in  the  Western 
prairie,  and  a  happy  rural  home. 

With  the  habits  of  energy,  which  their 
hardy  street  education  has  conferred  upon 
.them,  they  want  but  one  thing  to  insure 
them  complete  success  in  their  improved 
condition  —  and  that  is,  to  be  faithful  to 
those  precious  words  of  the  Bible  : — 

"Eemember  now  thy  Creator  in  the  days 
of  thy  youth,  while  the  evil  days  come  not, 
nor  the  years  draw  nigh,  when  thou  shalt 
say,  I  have  no  pleasure  in  them. 

"  While  the  sun,  or  the  light,  or  the  moon, 
or  the  stars,  be  not  darkened,  nor  the  clouds 
return  after  the  rain : 

"  In  the  day  when  the  keepers  of  the  house 
shall  tremble,  and  the  strong  men  shall  bow 


124  A    VOICE    FROM    TUE    NEWSBOYS. 


tliemselves,  and  the  grinders  cease  because 
they  are  few,  and  tliose  that  look  out  of  the 
windows  be  darkened, 

"And   the   doors    shall    be    shut   in   the 
streets,  when  the  sound  of  the  grinding  is 
low,  and  he  shall  rise  up  at  the  voice  of  the* 
bird,  and  all  the  daughters  of  music  shall  be 
brought  low ; 

"  Also  when  they  shall  be  afraid  of  that 
which  is  high,  and  fears  shall  be  in  the  way, 
and  the  almond  tree  shall  flourish,  and  the 
grasshopper  shall  be  a  burden,  and  desire 
shall  fail:  because  man  goeth  to  his  long 
home,  and  the  mourners  go  about  the 
streets : 

"  Or  ever  the  silver  cord  be  loosed,  or  the 
golden  bowl  be  broken,  or  the  pitcher  be 
broken  at  the  fountain,  or  the  wheel  at  the 
cistern. 

"  Then  shall  the  dust  return  to  the  earth 
as  it  was ;  and  the  spirit  shall  return  unto 
God  who  gave  it." 


\ 


FAREWKLL. 


125 


Hoping  tliat  he  will  abide  by  these  words 
of  Divine  command — we  bid  the  newsboy 
of  former  time — Farewell. 


11* 


CONCLUSION. 

Here  ends  for  the  present,  not  my  life  as 
3'et,  but  such  a  hasty  account  of  some  of  its 
incidents  as  it  has  been  thought  best  to  com- 
mit to  paper.  Of  itself  it  can  be  of  little 
interest  to  any  one  but  myself,  and  some  of 
my  kind  friends ;  but  as  a  simple  example 
of  newsboy  life — of  such  a  life  as  is  spent 
by  many  a  boy  (or,  with  some  unessential 
variations,  by  many  a  girl)  in  our  great 
cities,  commonly  with  more  suftering,  greater 
trials,  and  less  aid  from  sympathizing  friends, 
than  in  my  humble  history,  it  may  have 
some  claims  on  the  attention  of  every  bene- 
volent man  or  woman. 

As  it  is  only  in  this  view  that  I  venture 
to  put  these  pages  before  the  public,  it  can- 
not but  be  a  fitting  moral  to  the  sim})le 
story,    to   ask   the   sympathy   of  the   kind 

(126) 


l^ 


\ 


CONCLUSION. 


127 


reader  for  that  class  of  human  beings  known 
as  "  Newsboys ;"  under  which  class,  however, 
are  properly  included  all  those  unfortunate 
children  of  poverty  in  cities,  who  have  to 
live  in  the  streets  mostly  by  their  own  wits 
or  resources,  whether  it  be  by  peddling  news- 
pajjers,  sweeping  crossings,  selling  stationery, 
or  any  other  little  traffic  which  they  may 
carry  on. 

Theirs  is  a  most  simple  but  hard  and  busy 
life.  Take  for  instance  the  newsboy  proper. 
He  rises  from  his  bed  of  shavings,  or  more 
often  from  his  bedless  den,  by  four  or  five 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  proceeds  to  the  news- 
paper office,  and  as  it  will  be  of  importance 
in  the  sale,  he  tries,  if  possible,  to  be  the  first 
to  get  his  papers.  Perhaps  he  has  to  wait  a 
half  or  three-quarters  of  an  hour  in  the  cold, 
before  they  are  ready — but  he  feels  amply 
repaid  for  his  trouble,  when  the  bundle  is 
under  his  arm,  and  off  he  starts  at  a  brisk 
rate,  in  order  to  have  the  market  supplied 
before  his  companions  arrive  on  the  field  of 


128  A    VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


battle.  For  the  neAVsboj's  cause  is  a  war- 
fare on  the  battle-field  of  life,  where  he  who 
fights  the  hardest  comes  off  trimnphant  from 
the  strife.  We  hear  him  at  very  early  hours 
in  the  most  distant  parts  of  the  city,  and 
across  the  ferries,  with  his  song  of  "  Here's 
the  Herald r  "  Times  T  "  Tribune  T  and 
then  in  a  lowered  tone,  "Morning  papers, 
sir  ?"  Perhaps  you  take  one ;  no  sooner 
has  he  pocketed  the  money,  than  his  voice 
sounds  again,  and  he  is  off  to  the  other  side 
of  the  street,  dealing  to  another  customer 
the  morning  news.  A  busy  worker  is  our 
early  newsboy,  now  here,  now  yonder ;  now 
chaffering  with  a  fellow-tradesman  ;  now 
darting  a  whole  square  away,  to  answer  a 
beckoning  linger  from  some  window ;  while 
unceasingly  his  melancholy  voice  is  sound- 
ing through  the  streets. 

By  nine  o'clock,  the  newsboy's  morning 
sales  arc  finished ;  if  we  still  follow  him — it 
will  be  into  the  coffee  and  cake  saloon,  where 
he  takes  a  seat,  and  waits  patiently  for  his 


CONCLUSION. 


129 


breakfast.  Meanwhile  he  muses  as  follows : 
"  I  had  iifty-six  papers  for  my  morning's 
stock,  for  which  I  paid  eighty-four  cents. 
For  the  sale  of  these  I  have  received  one 
dollar  and  twelve  cents,  leaving  me  a  profit  of 
twenty-eight  cents ;  nine  of  these  I  am  going 
to  spend  for  my  breakfast,  and  I  shall  then 
have  nineteen  to  spare.  After  breakfast  I 
will  look  for  some  jobs  at  the  foot  of  Court- 
landt  street ;  I  may  perhaps  get  a  couple  of 
valises  to  carry,  for  which  I  shall  receive 
fifteen  or  twenty  cents."  Just  at  this  mo- 
ment, his  thoughts  are  diverted  from  this 
practical  channel,  by  the  appearance  of  his 
breakfast,  consisting  of  a  cup  of  coffee  and 
six  griddle-cakes.  All  his  energies  are  now 
directed  to  the  consumption  of  Avhat  is  set 
before  him,  which  he  eats  with  a  right  good 
will,  asking  no  questions  for  conscience 
sake. 

From  the  saloon,  he  hastens  to  the  foot 
of  Courtlandt  Street.  A  lady  comes  off  from 
a  ferry-boat,   with   a  bundle   in   her  hand. 


i;30 


A    VOICE    FROM    THE    NEWSBOYS. 


!  I 
I  I 
I   I 

'   I 

I  I 
I   I 


Our  bold  newsboy  steps  up,  and  offers  to 
carry  it  for  her  :■  she  surrenders  it  to  liim, 
saying,  "  Take  it  to  the  Sixth  Avenue  cars, 
and  I  will  give  you  a  dime."  The  bundle  is 
soon  seized,  and  rejoicing  at  the  chance,  the 
boy  trudges  along  under  its  weight.  It  is 
aboard  the  cars,  and  the  dime  has  sunk  into 
the  lowest  corner  of  his  pocket ;  but  it  can- 
not slip  through,  for  if  every  other  square 
inch  of  clothing  on  his  body  is  torn  and 
ragged,  the  newsboy  is  always  sure  to  have 
one  pocket  tight  enough  to  hold  his  small 
change.  In  a  few  minutes  he  is  again  at 
the  ferry,  as  indefatigable  as  ever,  looking 
for  another  job :  he  meets  a  tall,  wiry, 
gaunt-looking  individual,  to  whom  he  offers 
his  services,  and  gets  a  well-loaded  travel- 
ling-ba^  to  carry  about  a  mile,  for  which  he 
is  rewarded  with  a  three-cent  piece!  and  with 
a  downcast  air  at  what  he  inwardly  calls  a 
"  sell,"  he  takes  his  departure  for  the  saloon 
where  in  virtue  of  his  thirty-two  cents  profit, 
he  ventures  to  spend  twelve  for  his  dinner — 


1 


CONCLUSION. 


131 


wliich  is  somethnes  composed  of  corned- 
beef  and  cabbage,  and  sometimes  of  a  six- 
cent  steak  and  a  cup  of  coffee.  It  may  be 
mentioned,  however,  tbat  it  is  not  uncom- 
mon for  one  of  tliese  boys,  wlien  be  lias  done 
a  good  day's  work,  to  marcli  into  a  restau- 
rant and  order  a  dinner  of  venison  or 
woodcock,  with  sauces,  wliicli  woukl  not  be 
despised  by  an  alderman,  and  wkicli  many 
of  bis  fellow-diners  wearing  better  coats 
would  not  venture  to  indulge  in. 

But  to  return  to  the  particular  boy  wliose 
steps  we  have  been  following.     His  dinner 
over,  lie  is  quite  ready  for  another  start; 
tbe  principal  business  of  the  afternoon  is  to 
purchase  a  stock  of  evening  papers,  and  he 
ends  the  occupation  of  the  day  as  he  began 
it,  by  supplying  people  with  the  latest  news. 
When   evening  draws   near,  he  is  com- 
pelled by  that  tyrant  of  animal  life,  Hunger, 
to  take  refuge  once  more  in  the  eating-saloon. 
On  leaving  this  establishment,  he  finds  him- 
self possessing  just  fifty  cents  more  than  he 


132 


A   VOICE   FROM   THE   NEWSBOYS. 


had  when  he  got  up  in  the  morning.  As  he 
can  think  of  no  better  place  of  resort,  he 
goes  to  the  theatre,  which  uses  up  twelve 
cents  of  his  earnings;  and  when  that  is  over — 
there  is  nothing  left  but  to  crawl  into  some 
favorite  spot  to  rest  his  weary  bones ! 

Such  is  the  daily  history  of  many  a  child 
of  poverty ;  we  must  leave "  it  to  the  reader 
to  fill  up  this  outline,  with  the  sad  details  of 
bodily  suffering,  of  drooping  spirits,  of  peril- 
ous temptations,  of  seductions  to  crime,  which 
the  individual  history  of  one  and  another  of 
this  numerous  class  will  furnish,  to  any  per- 
son who  will  inc|uire  for  himself  into  the 
matter. 

How  many  consider  this  class  of  beings  as 
pesls,  when  they  so  constantly  persecute  the 
passer-by  to  purchase  their  wares,  who  would 
be  moved  with  the  truest  pity,  if  they  could 
only  know  the  gnawing  want,  and  homeless- 
ness,  which  drives  these  poor  boys  to  such 
importunity ! 

How  many  are  moved  with   sadness   of 


I 


CONCLUSION. 


133 


heart,  when  they  see  them  splashing  wearily 
through  the  mud,  chilling  their  bare  feet 
against  the  icy  flag-stones,  and  while  their 
right  arm  encircles  a  heap  of  morning  papers, 
their  left  is  drawing  their  rags  around  them 
to  shut  out  a  few  of  the  shafts  of  the  piercing. 
wind;  how  many,  I  say,  are  moved  with 
sadness  at  all  this,  who  are  not  aware  that 
this  is  but  comfort,  in  comparison  with  the 
real  trials  of  the  friendless  boy ! 

They  know  not  the  stinging  abuse  he  may 
nightly  be  receiving  under  his  parent's  roof 

if  he  may  yet  possibly  be  living  under  it. 

Or  more  likely  which  he  maij  have  received 
before  their  drunken  barbarity,  or  their 
delirious  death,  dropped  him  homeless  upon 
the  world ! 

They  know  not  that  the  shades  of  night 
set  in  upon  that  rag-clothed  frame,  only  to 
find  it  shivering  in  the  streets,  and  that  the 
toll  of  the  midnight-bell,  vibrating  along  the 
frozen  air,  has  only  to  dip  under  the  stony 
stoop,  to  reach  the  ears  of  the  homeless  boy! 
12 


134 


A    VOICE    rUOM    THE    NKWSBOTS. 


These  few  pages,  detailing  the  fortunes  of 
one  of  this  cLass,  will  not  have  cost  useless 
labor,  if  they  can  only  be  the  means  of  induc- 
ing the  kind  reader  to  look  for  himself  into 
the  life  and  circumstances  of  some  of  these 
-unfortunate  beings,  till  he  shall  be  induced  to 
give  a  sympathy  that  shall  express  itself  in 
acts  as  well  as  words ;  till  he  shall  be  willing 
to  share  with  the  newsboy  some  of  the  cloth- 
ing that  warms  his  own  back  and  his  bed ; 
to  patronize  his  simple  yet  useful  traffic;  to 
labor  to  reform  his  parents,  if  they  are  yet 
living  in  vice;  to  deal  mercifully  with  his 
thults  and  crimes — as  he  is  brought  up  in 
the  very  slough  of  vice;  to  be  willing  to 
speak  kind  words,  and  words  of  instruction, 
to  his  mind,  which  shall  be  the  means  of 
turning  his  untiring  energy,  and  his  wits 
sharpened  by  distress,  into  channels  of  em- 
ployment which  shall  make  him,  if  not  a 
great  man,  at  least  a  tiseful  man  in  society. 

Then,  dear  reader,  in  your  hours  of  happi- 
ness, of  home-life,  of  health,  of  warmth  by 


CONCLUSION. 


135 


the  fire-side,  and  of  genial  shelter  in  the 
slumbers  of  the  night,  of  kind  words  from 
loving  friends,  of  reading,  of  study,  of  reli- 
gious instruction  and  enjoyment,  spare  a 
few  moments,  now  and  then,  to  ihinlc,  to 
;plead,  and  to  act  for  your  suffering  fellow- 
creature— the  HOMELESS  NEWSBOY! 


THE   END. 


_J 


I 


21860 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


OCT  01  199|) 

OCT  0  ^  -^^ 


A     000  675  309     9 


•  inii\uHiitni\iA'^i 


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pi- 

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